


A Match Made In...

by 1lostone



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, And while we're on the subject why did I decide to do English royalty (ish) set in America?, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attack of the gender stereotypes!, Exhibitionism, Extremely historically inaccurate, Forced Marriage, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, I mean I'm a history nerd and all but, I suppose we'll never know., Jealousy, Like don't even try to fit this into actual history or you'll just get a headache, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Past Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Semi-Public Sex, Seriously so many damn tropes, So this happened., Tropeception, Tropes, Wordplay as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is a once-wealthy, titled man about town. Zachary is a powerful businessman with a grudge.  Written for the prompt, "Pinto. Chris is forced into marrying Zach."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angelrox040](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelrox040/gifts).



> Er, yeah.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Written for [**angelrox040**](http://angelrox040.livejournal.com/) . Blame her. I started to write it, then had an idea for a plot. My plot seems to have been given some sort of illicit sexual favors from every Bodice-ripper romance novel ever made. I'm not a historian, and while it's set in the past, most of the 'historical stuff' is completely made up. Please, for the love of god, don't take this too seriously. Beta'd by the lovely [**jademac2442**](http://jademac2442.livejournal.com/)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Waaay back in the day, **avictoriangirl** did the banner! ~~(bb if you have a better link where you'd like me to direct them just let me know!)~~ Done! :D
> 
> 2016 edit- This is finished, but I am reposting after edits. You might want to subscribe to the fic so you don't miss, or wait until it's posted because I can't promise weekly updates! 
> 
> ♥ ♥

 

 

**New York City**

**1893**

* * *

The horse-drawn carriage stopped with a jerk and clop of hooves, sending the man dozing inside of it sliding most precariously off of the velvet cushion. Chris opened bleary eyes and pushed aside the small curtain with his walking stick, staring out into the street.  His family’s crest glinted brightly in the weak morning light and Chris winced, letting the curtain fall back into place. Twenty minutes ago, he’d been settling down to his morning meal at his club, reading the society pages of the  Times, ready to settle down from his wild night of carousing. Christopher’s lips twisted in a wry smile. He blamed Karl for his body’s current misery, as the older man had been most insistent that Chris join him in the evening’s festivities.  Now, however, Chris found himself urgently summoned to his solicitor’s office at eight o’clock in the morning. Chris had fully intended to spend this ungodly hour deeply asleep, as he had not slept the night previous.

He heard the driver click to the horses as he jumped down, and Chris had just enough time to gather his dove grey gloves before the doors to his carriage opened. He made his way down.  The carriage ride hadn’t done much for his queasy stomach, and he’d not been able to enjoy his usual caffeinated beverage before leaving his club.

“Mornin’ yer Lordship.”

Chris nodded absently at the driver and walked up the marble steps, letting himself into the building.  Bruce’s secretary gave him an unfathomable look before indicating that Chris should seat himself in the small waiting area.

It didn’t take long.

He was escorted into Bruce’s office straightaway. “Mr. Greenwood, sir. The Viscount Pine to see you.”

“Very good, Joseph. “

Chris walked in, smiling when he saw the familiar face seated behind the desk.  It struck him suddenly that Bruce looked quite worried.  The older man stood, gesturing to the seat in front of him. A small, niggling feeling began to bloom as Chris began to wonder if he wasn’t here for his quarterly allowance after all.  “Hello, Christopher. Please sit.”

Chris did so, worrying at his lip with his teeth. It was an appalling habit he’d had, one that his mother had tried tirelessly to break him of.  He made himself still, unconsciously trying to brace himself for whyever Bruce had summoned him. Bruce didn’t waste time with pleasantries. He sat back down, opened his mouth, and began to speak.

It didn’t seem possible that such news could be delivered in such a calm, controlled voice.  Chris felt rocked by his solicitor’s pronouncement. His legs felt weak. For a moment, he thought the spinning room was a holdover from the previous night’s drinking, but no.  It was hard to speak through the large weight that was seemingly squeezing all of his air from his lungs.

“Gone?” Chris could only gasp, staring at the man in front of him.  Bruce had been a friend of his father’s, the youngest of the partners tasked with taking care of all their monetary, public and private interests. _Although_ , a slightly hysterical part of his mind screamed, _they clearly hadn’t been up to the challenge_.

“Yes. Everything.  Not to put too fine a point upon it, Christopher, but there is no money left. _Nothing._ Not for your sister’s schooling, for your current lifestyle, even the very foundation of your home is….”

“Gone.” Chris whispered it.

There were very few members of the Peerage living in the Americas, but Christopher’s father had moved here when Chris was quite small.  His parents had been quite proud of their title, and had made sure that the elite well-connected in New York society knew the Pines. Chris had only recently inherited the title, and had not had much use for it. It got him where he needed to go, and people respected him for it, but otherwise it was a bit of an embarrassment. 

He knew Bruce well enough to see the barely stifled anger in his words.  Chris sank into one of the straight-backed chairs in front of Bruce’s desk as his legs gave out on him.  “We’re to lose our home?” It didn’t seem possible. The townhouse was in the most fashionable part of Manhattan. Christopher spent most of the season there.  It seemed impossible, almost like a joke to think that he would lose it.  He drew his hand up and down his thigh, encased in the most fashionable trousers, the simple sensual pleasure of the fabric holding no interest to him.  His gaze traveled to the silver ring on his smallest finger, the pounded metal shining in the muted light of Bruce’s office.  It had belonged to his father, and had been in his family for generations. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, the reality of the situation was inescapable.

“How? _How_ , Bruce, could this have happened?”

“QinnEnterprises.”

Chris blinked.  He watched Bruce’s mouth move, but the shape of the words didn’t seem to make sense.  Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead as though pained.  While technically old enough to be Chris’ father, he didn’t often act as such.  Now though, he looked every one of his years as he tried to explain the impossible.

“When your father passed away there was significantly more debt than you had been aware.   He… requested that I not make you aware of the lack of funds. Your name is an old one, Chris. Powerful in certain circles. Hell, you’re one of the few titled people we have here in America.  Your parents… well. You know how they were.”

Chris nodded dumbly. He did. Parties in the height of fashion, a house in the country when the summer was so hot that one couldn’t stand the crush of the city’s masses. The finest chefs. Both he and his sister attending the most elite of private schools.  “But…” He stopped, had to start again. “But, _why_?” He was dumbfounded.

“Why, what? Why wouldn’t your father curb his spending instead of running up debts in most of the books in the state? Especially after your mother’s death;  I could barely keep him out of the gaming halls. Well, that in itself is its own answer. He kept spending, and spending….” Bruce sighed.  “I had no choice. I was forced to sell most of your assets.  The townhouse, the estate in the county, most of your holdings, some of the family antiques were paste and paint; did you know that? He’d had copies made and gamed off the profits.”

Chris’ gaze went to his ring again.  “I do not understand how QinnEnterprises is responsible for my father’s debts.”

“Tell me Christopher, when you were in school, do you remember a Zachary Quinto?”

Hearing the name after so long caused Chris to gasp, tensing in his chair. “Wh-?” the air left his lungs again as though he’d been punched.  Of course he remembered Zachary. _Zach._ Chris remembered brown eyes turned to him in confusion, filled with hurt and betrayal, and then cold with realization as the mocking laughter of their peers filled the air around them.

“Never mind. I can see from your face that you do.  He is the sole owner of QinnEnterprises, Christopher. It started happening quite quietly over two years ago. So quietly in fact that it took me quite awhile to ascertain who was going around and buying up all your father’s debts.”

Chris, for the third time in just minutes reeled with the news.  “Why would he do such a thing?”

Bruce just sat there, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he stared at Chris. “How well do you know him?”

“I don’t, really. We were at school together briefly. He left in the middle of the year. I’ve not heard from him since- until you just mentioned his name. I did not even put together the name of the cooperation with what I remember of him.”  His voice was flat, carefully bereft of all emotion. In his head, Chris was hearing the hissed words, words that he still remembered ten years later, filled with pain.

_“You will regret this. I’ll make you pay for everything.”_

“Well, he is insisting on an interview to discuss your options.”

“My options? What options?”

“He would not explain. His note was quite brief.”

Chris held out his hand. “May I see it?”

Bruce cocked his head in a way that Chris remembered his own father doing when he’d done something especially mischievous and was seeking to avoid punishment.

_Mr. Greenwood:_

_Advise your client that I will meet with him Tuesday next to discuss certain pertinent financial matters._

_Yrs._ _Z._ _Quinto, QinnEnterprises_

Chris blinked down at the words, throat tight.  He could feel Bruce’s gaze on him, dark with unasked questions.  He felt completely out of his depth.   Today was Tuesday.  He blinked up at his father’s friend and felt the sting of tears.  “Today?”

“I did try to reach you yesterday when it was delivered to my office.”

Chris winced.  Yesterday was pretty fuzzy; a haze of alcohol and swirling skirts, dancing and cards tables. As though reminding him of his presence, his hangover took that moment to come back full force, driving into his head like the crack of a gunshot. His stomach rolled as he handed back the note.  “Yes. Well, it doesn’t seem as though I have much choice to meet with him.” Chris took a deep breath and looked up at Bruce’s kind eyes. “What about the servants? Zoe’s schooling?”

Bruce’s eyes darkened.

Chris jumped to his feet. “No! That isn’t possible. Some of them have been with my family for generations! They’re what, to be sent out onto the _street_?”

“I did make sure they had the last quarter’s wages, Christopher. From my own coffers. It was the least I could do for your father. But yes, unless we can find them positions, and discretely. It could be possible. With your connections,  I imagine I can make a few inquires.  I wish circumstances were different; Christopher, but here is just no money. None.”

“And my Zoe?”

“Your sister will likely be sent into the workhouses. I own several factories where she could be put to… use.”

The cold voice caused Chris to turn around, fairly gaping at the man lounging against the side of the door.  He felt his eyes widen as he realized who had spoken so callously about his beloved sister.

As a young man of sixteen years, Zachary had been all gangly legs and wiry muscle, the shabby clothes he’d worn often showing a bony ankle or a knobby wrist when he moved too suddenly.  Now, he was dressed implacably, looking every inch the modern gentleman from his knee-length leather boots, to the soft linen of his trousers, the crisp white shirt and vest. He wore a coat over the ensemble, cut perfectly to accentuate the line of his long body.  There was little else of the boy Chris remembered in the man that stood before him.  The Zach he remembered had had a generous smile, a bright flash of white teeth in his tanned face as they laughed over something together. Now his mouth was twisted in a cold smirk.  His eyes, once warm and hiding nothing of what he was feeling, were now as cold as the marble inlay he stood against.

Zachary pushed away from the door and strode over to Bruce, ignoring Chris completely.  He removed his gloves, and held them with his riding crop, reaching over the desk to shake Bruce’s hand.  “Mr. Greenwood. I appreciate your discretion in this matter.  I wish to discuss certain… truths… with your client.”  Chris watched as Bruce shook Zachary’s hand, somewhat overwhelmed by his forthright manner.

“Certainly, Mr. Quinto. I will just have some tea prepared…”

“That is not necessary.  You are free to go. What I have to say is best spoken between,” Zachary cast a dismissive glance at Chris’ gape-mouthed form, “Myself and the good _Viscount_ here.”

Chris blanched at the blatant rudeness of Zach… no, _Zachary’_ s remark.  He had to forcibly remind himself that this was not the boy he’d known so briefly, so many years ago.  “It’s fine, Bruce.  We clearly have much to discuss.” Chris forced a smile, knowing fully that Bruce was torn with whether to mediate their discussion or follow the influential man’s orders.

Bruce had an unfortunate tendency to always try to shield Chris from the cruel realities of the world. Especially since Christopher’s parents’s deaths, Bruce had tried his best to see to Chris and Zoe’s needs, much like a parent would. Or, at the very least, a favorite Uncle.  Bruce nodded. “Very well.  You are free to continue to use my office.” He clapped Chris on the shoulder and Chris closed his eyes at the strong grip, taking strength from the small connection.  Zachary walked around to the fireplace, standing with one booted foot on the base, leg bent at the knee so that the linen trousers pulled just enough to show the shape of his rear end.

Chris realized he was staring, and jerked his eyes down to his lap. He watched his hands worry at the ring on his finger as though it belonged to someone else.  Bruce quit the room, standing aside as a young man dressed in servant’s livery walked in.  Chris looked up at the gasp of air and recognized the mop of curls.  He’d known this face his whole life.  Anton had been born on his parent’s estate, and worked in the stables. He was an absolute gem of knowledge when it came to horses.  Anton’s parents had gone to join the Russian circus, and Anton, content with Chris’s stables and the friends he’d made on the estate, had chosen to stay behind.  Anton should most assuredly _not_ be here in the city.

“Anton! What….?”  Chris’ shock was palpable as he watched his young friend glance almost fearfully at Chris, before striding to where Zachary waited, hand held out for the small leather-bound stack of papers Anton was currently clutching to his chest.  Chris was filled with such horror at seeing Anton acting so oddly that he half rose to walk to him.

“Sit _down_. Anton, you are dismissed.”

Anton’s eyes shifted briefly to Chris’s again before he nodded and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.  Chris was aware of his heavy breathing, and stubbornly remained standing, straightening his shoulders as he looked at the man standing as far away from him as he possibly could.

“I know why you are doing this.” Chris tilted his head, staring at Zachary head on, chin jutting out.

Zachary rummaged in his waistcoat pocket for a silver cigar case, pulling out a thin cheroot and lighting the end with a quick flair of one of the matches Bruce kept on the mantel.  “You know nothing.”

“Don’t I?  How could you do something so callous? Anton? _Zoe_?Some of those retainers have been with my family for longer than your family has even been in America!”  Chris found himself no longer able to stand still. He started to pace, furiously, the shock of his situation wearing off into anger.

The grip on his arm was so unexpected, that when Zachary pulled his arm, Chris stumbled forward, pulled off-balance.  He hadn’t even heard the other man move.  His fierce grip crushed the fine material of Chris’ shirt, and the suddenness of the movement brought Zachary’s furious face much closer to Chris than he had anticipated. Chris could feel the vice-like grip through his jacket. He could see the small dark flecks in the brown iris of Zach’s eyes.  “You will never mention my family again.”  The words were all the more frightening for the furious hiss of air than if he had shouted in Chris’s face.  Chris jerked his arm out of Zachary’s tight grip, refusing to rub the spot, knowing that he would have a bruise there tomorrow.

“Who are _you_ to order me about? Good day, Mr. Quinto. This conversation is _over_.”  Chris turned away from the furious face and stomped towards the door. His head throbbed in time with his boots and Chris felt his stomach roll unpleasantly again.

“If you walk out of this room I will auction your family homes to the most derelict of renters.  Your servants will curse your name as they line up for the poorhouse. Your sister will be forcibly removed from her fancy school. All of her peers will watch as she is forced to work for the rest of her term fees, as the lowest chambermaid, serving those who once called her friend.”

Chris froze, each muscle in his body tensing as Zachary’s words hit him like blows to the kidneys.

“Now cease this pathetic show of independence and sit _down_.”  His voice changed, turned mocking. “You’ve never been independent in your life, and your attempts to try to do so now are not amusing.  It is time to make you aware of certain truths of your situation.”

Chris felt his shoulders sag.  He removed his hand from the doorknob and turned, noting how Zachary was now lounging against the desk, arms crossed over his chest so that his biceps were clearly defined under the velvet jacket.  The sweet smoke of his cigar filled Bruce’s office.  Chris refused to sit back down, instead staring at the man across from him, hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Your father was careless. I am not to blame for his appalling lack of responsibility towards his family. However, I learned quite a few years ago never to waste an opportunity should it present itself.  Your Mr. Greenwood tried to stop him of course, but your father’s gambling preferences were well known.  It was quite simple to go around and buy off some of the more pressing of his debts.  He would incur more, and more.  Your inheritance, the family money of which you were so proud, is gone.  I own the deeds to your property, to the farms, the businesses by the pier. He even mortgaged the few properties and holdings left near London.   Your father sold off most of the frippery in your former home, so do not think that you can attempt to sell off any of the belongings that might remain there.  Your servants, for which you were so _concerned_ ,” here Zachary paused, sucking in a puff of his cigar and blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling as he spoke, his distaste clear in each word, “belong to me now.”

Chris wished he had taken the chair. He felt dizzy with the cold reality of Zachary’s words.  Bruce had said practically the same thing, but had broken the news so gently that while shocking, hadn’t had this effect. It was like a slap to the face.

“I own the clothes on your back. For all practical intents and purposed, Christopher, I own you.”

“What…” His voice gave out on him.  “What do you want?” The whisper was a bare gasp of sound.

Zachary shifted, meeting Chris’ devastated gaze for the first time since he began speaking.  He raised an eyebrow, the only sign of life on his cold face.

A memory surfaced in the depths of Chris’ mind.

_**_

_He and Zach sprawled on the grass by the riverbed, both breathing heavily from their swim.  Zach, always the body shy one of the two of them, pulls his rough, homespun trousers back on, ignores the way they stick unpleasantly to his skin.  Chris lays on his back with his ankles crossed, hands pillowed back behind his head. He gazes up at the lazy clouds that drift across the sky.  He likes the way the wind cools the water from his skin and he shivers at the dual sensations of the hot sun and the cool water on his naked flesh._

_“I think my parents are going to insist that I marry Annabelle.”  Chris frowns up at the wispy vapors as he speaks, disgust apparent in every word.  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his friend stiffen._

_“Why_ that _particular cow? She’s horrible, Chris. You’ve said so yourself.  Nothing in her head but feathers.”_

_Chris snorts. “It doesn’t matter what I want. Her family and mine have known each other for years.  It’s expected.”_

_“Why must you do the expected? Why can’t you do what you wish?”  Zach sits up, crossing his legs. “And put something on!” A faint blush stained his cheeks.  Chris laughs up at him, but pulls on his trousers before flopping back onto the grass.  “I mean it, Christopher. Why can’t you do what you want?” Zach cocked his head and Chris watches as his gaze skitters over his body to ensure that he was decently covered before settling firmly on his face. Chris had to laugh again. Zach was such a prude._

_“The world doesn’t work like that, Zach, besides, I don’t even know what I would want.”_

_Zach made an exasperated sound. “Lazy and spoilt!”_

_Chris’ mouth quirks in a grin. “Of course I’m lazy and spoiled. All us royalty are.”_

_Zach snorts.  “Royalty. If you were all that “royal” you’d be back in England with the other Lords ‘n’ Ladies.”_

_They’re silent for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts._

_Chris grabs a stalk of grass and shreds it as he speaks. “If I could, you know… have anything that I wanted? I think I’d want to be able to marry someone who loves me. Really loves me I mean.” His words are hesitant, feeling ridiculous at stating something so girlish out loud. He can almost hear Zach rolling his eyes at his halting confession._

_“Oh la, good sir. I do so love you. See my bosoms heave with the love I feel!  See my lady parts flutter for the love I feel for your manly… purse.”  Zach speaks in a high pitched girlish squeal that causes Chris to glare at his friend. Zach makes a few kissy faces to make sure that his point is hammered all the way home before he squeaks for another reason as Chris tackles him, rolling around and around until he has Zach pinned, his flailing arms kept still by his heavier frame.   Zach is laughing so hard that he is having trouble drawing breath and Chris feels something shift in his chest as he stares down at him.  He quickly moves off of his friend and waits until Zach sits up, still snickering under his breath._

_“Why? What would you have if you could then?”_

_Zach dusts some of the soil off of his arm. “Why, money of course. Or a title. I’d do anything to have what you’re so willing to throw away, you selfish little shit.” He grins through the insult. “Now are we going to go to dinner or not? I’m starving!”_

**

Chris felt the blood drain from his face.  “You… you son of a bitch. You _can’t_! I won’t allow it! Zoe’s only fourteen!”

The eyebrow twitched. The look on Zachary’s face turned even more derisive as he stared at Chris as though he were a particularly dim child.  “Of course not. I have no interest in your thrice-damned _sister_.” He sounded disgusted.

“Then...”  Chris was not stupid. He realized what Zachary meant all at once, the pieces clicking together with all the finality of a door slamming shut on a prison cell.  He felt his eyes widen, and he actually took a step back from the strange, cold man in front of him. “ _Me_? But I… I’m n-n-not… I don’t…”

“Let me make this clear for you, Christopher, so that there is no confusion later. You have no money. You have no prospects. I’m willing to make a… deal… of sorts with you. In light of our past acquaintance, you understand.” Again, that hateful, mocking tone to his voice made Chris want to curl away from the naked malice he could hear in Zachary’s words.  “You will marry me for a period of one year. In the eyes of the law, that’s a sufficient time to remain married before divorcing.  In that time you will have various chances to pay off your debt.” His lips curled in a way that left absolutely no doubt to what he was referring. Chris swallowed hard, feeling his stomach beginning to rebel.  “I will see to your sister’s needs.  To your needs. Neither of you will want for anything. In exchange we will be married. At the end of that one year, I will retain your title and you will have the means to begin rebuilding your family’s fortune. “ He paused and took a step forward so that they were toe to booted toe.

Chris shut his eyes. Married? To _Zach_? To someone who hated him so _much_ , to someone who had spent countless hours and resources, who had planned each little step that led up to this humiliating moment?  He could not fathom such an existence. Still, did he have a choice?  True, he and Zoe could go to one of Chris’ many friends. Karl, Simon… even John would allow them to stay with them for a short time.  He had skills. Chris could find work, and he and Zoe could likely scratch out an existence together.  Only, the world they lived in was a cruel, often unfair place. One didn’t recover quickly from a scandal, and while Chris would be fine, protected from the whispers and pointed fingers, he wasn’t naive enough to think that this debacle would not touch his sister, or her prospects at finding a good marriage. A year was… well. Zachary was correct. It was the bare minimum of time married couples had to spend together before divorcing, if both parties wished to lay a claim on any monetary values.  The law was different when two men married. Had Chris been a woman, he would likely be so much chattel, bought and sold for his empty title.  For his position in society.

Was he really considering this mad plan?  Chris blinked, worrying at his lip again with his teeth.  Zachary looked supremely unconcerned, his ankles crossed as he lounged against Bruce’s desk, idly blowing smoke circles towards the ceiling. If Zachary really owned all Christopher’s debts, and chose to call them in, Chris would have no recourse but to go to a debtor’s prison until his finances were paid off to Zachary’s satisfaction.

Chris swallowed, his dry throat making a clicking noise as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

He did not seem to have a choice.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Zach had to stand there a moment in the doorway, trying to remind himself how to breathe. When he had heard Chris’s voice raised in his impassioned disbelief, it was as though the years had completely melted away.  Emotions warred within him; joy and shock, hurt and fury all battling each other for dominance.  When Chris had turned his shocked face to him after Zach had spoken, he had to actually take a moment to compose himself.  Chris had never understood just how exquisitely expressive his face was.  Coming face to face with those blue eyes again after so many years, widened with appalled astonishment at Zach’s callous words, caused his very world to tilt on its axis.

It was with the utmost in control that he managed to continue with his business. He had not seen Chris in eleven years. He had not anticipated his reaction.

His family had never been wealthy.  It had been almost pure chance that Zach had been accepted to the Abrams Academy.  He had known that he would have to work harder than the wealthy boys who went there, but Headmaster Abrams had been kind, extolling virtues of hard work and academic excellence.  Zach’s mother and brother had both been ecstatic at his acceptance to the school.

At sixteen, Zach was gangly and almost coltish, seemingly made up of naught but long legs and arms. The clothes his mother made for him never fit exactly right, although Zach would never tell her such a thing. Zach had ignored the taunts from the other boys, the demands that he clean up after them, the rubbish left in his bed and concentrated on doing well in his classes. It was a petty revenge, but one that the young Zach enjoyed. His intelligence had always served him well.

The first time Zach clearly remembered meeting Chris they were debating the merits of Darwin’s new methodology of scientific study.  Both had been speaking with such heat that when Chris had knocked over an inkwell with the side of his hand as he made a particular point it had shocked the whole class when he had thrown his head back in the middle of his argument and burst into laughter. Zach had started to laugh as well and had helped him clean up the mess.  Later, he’d heard Chris warning some of his more inventive tormentors to leave him alone.  People had a way of listening to Chris. Even as a young man, he’d been beautifully charismatic. From then on, nothing overt was done to him until…

Zach pulled his thoughts back with a physical jolt.  He stood there, very aware of the picture he made as he’d aggressively stepped into Chris’s personal space, giving him his ultimatum.  Lounging now against the desk, he could see the questions and thoughts flickering in his blue gaze.  He watched as Chris bit his lip and suddenly knew his years of plotting, of planning and scheming for this moment was about to pay off.  He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the self-righteous smirk from creasing his lips. Finally. It was finally happening, after all the years of planning and plotting.

He’d counted on the fact that Chris was too proud; too _spoiled_ by his means of living that he wouldn’t want others to know of his predicament. It has always shocked Zach at how naïve Chris was about the world. Buying up his father’s debts had been almost insultingly simple.  He liked the feeling that Chris was dependent on him. Zach had never met Chris’ younger sister, but was perfectly willing to use her as a means to his all-important end. Chris had always been close to Zoe. Using that bond was child’s play. Naïve or not, the Chris he knew would always protect his sister with everything that he was. Their closeness, only more so after their parents’ deaths, was just another tool in Zach’s arsenal.

“I do not understand why you are doing this.” Chris’ whisper startled Zach out of his thoughts, and he almost fumbled the cigar at hearing the depth of confusion and hurt explicit in the tone.  Zach met Chris’s gaze with his own and again the impact of those blue eyes caused Zach’s very breath to falter in his lungs.

_No, this was not to be. You must not….!_

Zach shook off the thought and took a deep breath, twisting his lips into a smirk.  He reached out and trailed one finger over Chris’ cheekbone, his manicured nail scraping slightly on the faint stubble there. “Don’t you?”

Chris’ gaze widened and he jerked his head away from Zach’s touch, then narrowed. “You disgust me.” His face hardened, looking as though Zach couldn’t be trusted to clean the dregs from Chris’ boots.

Zach simply stood there as one eyebrow rose with derision.   He stared at Chris until the other man threw up his hands.

“I’m to be your wife, then? Will you draw up a list of how much I’m owed for each wifely duty I perform to your satisfaction? A dollar if supper has your favorite items? Two if I make sure your cuffs are perfectly starched? Do you think I can get five if I suck your cock?”  

The mental image of Chris on his knees in front of him wiped the smirk off of Zach’s face so quickly he was surprised that he didn’t strain one of the muscles in his jaw.  “I doubt your efforts would be worth that much.” Zach turned away, needing a moment to cool his own desire. He cursed himself for being weak. Chris was only one man, after all. Zach certainly knew more beautiful specimens.  Zach knew this whole plan hinged on keeping his wits about him. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. His gaze caught on the sheaf of papers that the young servant had brought to him.  Seeing them caused Zach to become more centered, more focused on the matter at hand. He couldn’t afford to become emotionally attached. Desire, while permissible, was still an emotion.  He took a small breath and focused himself on the task at hand. “If you wish for me to add that to the marriage contract, I shall.” He walked around the desk and seated himself, after flipping the tail of his jacket back out of his way. It wouldn’t do for the material to wrinkle.  He stared pointedly at Chris until the other man seated himself.

“You are free to peruse this contract. I had my solicitor draw up the pertinent papers, but I concede that you will wish for your Mr. Greenwood to make sure everything is forthright.  You can see that everything is in order.”

Zach watched as Chris’ gaze flicked down to the papers in his hand.  He bit his lip again and Zach froze; feeling his cock twitch in his trousers.

“When…?” Chris cleared his throat, looking down at the papers. “When should this farce occur?”

Zach had planned for the end of the week. He needed some time to make sure a few aspects of his plan were underway. He opened his mouth to speak, but his own words came at a great surprise. “Tonight. The sooner the better.”

“And you insist on this… consummation?”

Zach raised his eyebrow again. “Insist? Let us be frank here, Chris. You and I will never be friends. I find your constant disregard for respectability; the way you spend your evenings going from ball to soiree to gaming hall despicable. You claim to worry for your sister’s wellbeing; yet you have no compulsion to spending most of your wealth on foolish pursuits. Foolishly, you assumed that once wealthy; you would always remain so and did naught with your education to improve upon your station. You have responsibilities from your inheritance that you have ignored since your father’s death. You are a shameful, spoiled, _parasite_ of a coward with very few qualities to redeem your existence. Yes, this “farce” might as well have some compensations; I shall invest inordinate sums of cash into your name to rebuild the respect that your father has gambled away. Insist? You bloody well better believe I insist. Why should I not  take _some_ pleasure from your body while I tie myself to you and your problems for an entire year?” Zach could hear the venom in his own words and had to stop himself from speaking further. Again, anger was an emotion. He could not afford this. Everything was about to start happening. He could not. Absolutely _not_ afford to lose any of his momentum. Zach looked up from riffling through the small stack of papers on the desk to see a very pale Chris blink several times before turning, rising and going to the small side cart where a decanter of brandy stood glinting in the pale morning light. The crystal clinked as Chris poured, and Zach smiled, a small, grim smile to see that Chris’ hand shook as he tossed back the snifter.  

“Very well, Zach.” Chris tossed back the drink and seemed to take strength from the small action. His shoulders squared and he turned to face Zach once again. “What do I need to sign? I assume you’ve procured the proper licenses.”

Zach gave no sign that his entire world had just turned into a shining, gargantuan ball of incandescent light. It was about to happen! At last! Inwardly gleeful, Zach didn’t bother to respond, instead holding out the small sheaf of papers. Chris would not meet his gaze as he walked forward. Zach flinched when their fingers brushed, the small burst of heat startling him so much that he almost dropped the documents. “You’ll find that these are all in order. Feel free to have your Mr. Greenwood peruse them, however.”

Chris just shook his head and leaned over to pick up Bruce’s pen, scrawling his name on the bottom of each sheet without reading. Zach inwardly frowned. Chris’s naivety would be to his eventual detriment. He needed someone who would look out for his interests.  “There. Signed.  When do we m-marry?” Chris stumbled over the word, but sat there with his gaze fixed solidly on the table. The small tremor was back in his hands, and Zach watched as he clenched his fists, swallowing hard.  He was still very pale.

“As soon as we have a judge meet us. Possibly within the hour.”  Zach’s eyes narrowed. This seemed too… simple. He cocked his head to the side, studying the man that was to become his husband with his eyebrow raised as he thought. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Chris held up a hand and took a shaky breath. “Very well. I will take that time to contact Karl, possibly even have Zoe fetc—“

“Impossible.”  Zach busied himself with looking back over their marriage papers as he spoke, finding himself not wanting to meet Chris’ blue gaze. He’d had several investigators accumulate information on Mr. Urban. He and Chris had been friends for years and despite a small age difference were often seen together at the most elite of entertainments. Zach knew that if anyone had the influence over Chris to talk him out of this somewhat madcap scheme, it would be Chris’ best friend.  “Mr. Greenwood and my assistant may serve as our witnesses.” Zach stood up, finding himself in possession of a strange burst of energy. He crossed to the closed door and opened it, looking back over his shoulder at Chris, staring after him with a strange sort of grimace on his face.  “We would not want to trouble him. I’m sure he is fast asleep, recovering from your night on the town.”

Zach quit the room, absolutely adamant that the slight blush on Chris’s cheeks was not at all fetching. He found Mr. Greenwood pacing nervously outside; mangling what must to have been a danish not too long ago. “Please see to this.” He handed Greenwood the signed papers and continued to the back of the small townhouse.

Zach found an opulent water closet, fit with all the modern plumbing. He removed his jacket and loosened his neckcloth, staring at himself in the looking glass, his hands stretched out on the sink. For a moment, he looked nonplussed at his reflection. Same dark eyebrows. Same hooded gaze. He had a slight shadow of whiskers on his cheeks, even this early in the morning. His hair was combed back from his forehead. A few pieces had fallen from his careful grooming, likely dislodged from his hat. All familiar parts, yet somehow he didn’t recognize himself. He leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water from the basin onto his face, patting himself dry with the white towel that hung on the wall.

 _Christopher_ _Pine would be … marrying him within the hour._ It seemed surreal. Clearly his former friend had been completely disgusted by the prospect. Disgusted by the prospect of lying with a man? Or was his disquiet just at the idea of bedding Zach? Either was equally possible.

Zach rubbed the bridge of his nose, allowing himself a small sigh. No time to dawdle, or to hide in the water closet.  The small moment of disquiet he felt at his reflection, the doubt that he was indeed doing what was only just left him as he left the small room, walking calmly down the corridor. Chris was talking to Bruce in a corner, the older man furiously clutching the marriage documents in his fist as Chris gestured wildly, clearly attempting to speak quickly. At Zach’s booted footstep, muffled on the fine carpet, the solicitor looked up over Chris’s head, his gaze cold with barely contained fury. Zach almost faltered with that barely controlled gaze.  Instead, he walked up behind Chris, acknowledging for the first time the two men patiently waiting in the sitting room.

“I believe we are ready.” Chris stiffened when Zach brushed against his arm. Chris tried to subtly shift his body away from Zach’s, and Zach followed the movement, refusing to allow Chris to elude him.

The older of the men nodded and looked to Mr. Greenwood for direction.

“My office should suffice.” The words were grit out through a jaw clenched tightly with anger.

“Quite. Shall we then?” He stepped back, taking Chris’ arm in a mockery of chivalry, enjoying the way he stiffened with offense.

They walked back into Mr. Greenwood’s office, and arranged themselves with Zach and Chris standing in front of the Judge, and the two witnesses in the back. Chris wasted no time in jerking his arm from Zach’s solicitous grasp, and Zach allowed a small smirk at the blue glare that his-soon-to-be-husband leveled his way.

The judge mopped his face with a kerchief and folded it back into his suit pocket. He procured a small, leather-bound tome and cleared his throat, nervously.  

Zach was aware that his heart had begun to pound. His thoughts chased each other in his head and he was only aware of one word as the judge wiped his brow again and began to speak. _Z_ ach had no worries that the hefty sum he’d paid the judge would win out over the man’s nervousness. _Finallyfinallyfinallyfinally!_

“--Are you, Christopher here of your own free will, and do you intend to marry Zachary?”

Zach blinked, startled to realize that he’d missed the beginning of the ceremony. Each nanosecond seemed to drag out as he waited for Chris’ answer. It was possible. No, _probable_ that he would decline, that Zach had pushed too far, too quickly…

“I do.”

The soft whisper caused Zachary’s eyes to shut of their own accord, He was aware that his breath left him in a small, relieved puff of air.  The judge looked at him, seeming much more relaxed. “And do you, Zachary, intend to marry Christopher here of here of your own free will?”

“I do.” His heartbeat began thundering in his chest again, so loudly that Zachary was certain that it would be visible under the fine lawn of his shirt, the silk of his waistcoat and fine material of his jacket.  Zach risked a look out of the corner of his eye at Chris. Chris was so pale that his skin looked almost obscenely translucent under the faint stubble on his chin.  Zachary turned slightly to really look at his … husband… and noticed for the first time the bloodshot eyes, the dark, purple bruises under them. Two bright bursts of red were the only bit of color in Chris’ face.

“Is there anyone present who has any reason why this couple may not lawfully be joined?”

Zach could almost _feel_ Mr. Greenwood burning with the desire to speak, but the fact that Chris was remaining silent forestalled any objections he might have had. Zach felt Chris tremble slightly, a small shudder running down the length of his slightly larger frame.  Fine beads of sweat popped out at Chris’ hairline and on the bit of skin visible under his jaw.  The judge waited a beat then his smile broadened even further, clearly having fooled himself that this marriage was amicable. The judge pulled a small card, inlayed with gold lettering out of his small book, and held it out for Zach to take. He did so, his eyes flicking over the words. His eyes narrowed. He felt the exchange of vows at this point to be almost gauche.  While he had initially taken pleasure at the idea of Chris being forced to say those words, he now found that he had no desire to further humiliate his former friend during this ceremony.

He handed back the card, giving the Judge a minute shake of his head. The judge seemed flustered for a moment before recovering. “Oh. Erm. Ah... do you have the rings?” The judge coughed, looking embarrassed.

“I do.” Zach delved into one of the smaller pockets on his waistcoat, emerging with a small velvet box. Chris seemed shocked at the small gesture, and Zach met his perplexed stare with patience. He gripped Chris’ hand, sliding the small silver band onto his hand with a quick movement, trying not to linger on the soft skin, so different from his own roughness.  The bands were matching rings of pure silver, cut with rounded edges, textured to give it a unique look. The man who had made them had promised that no other rings like them existed. He handed his ring to Chris, who seemed to take a deep breath as he slowly copied Zach’s movement, sliding the silver band onto Zach’s hand. It caught on the knuckle, causing Zach to shift uncomfortably as Chris straightened out his hand, easing the band onto his finger.

“Ah! Lovely! Well, then as you have both signed that you are not related, and are of a sound age for matrimony, it is my great honor to pronounce you both husband to each other, and formally joined together in the legal state of marriage. You may kiss your husband.”

Zach froze for a moment. He could feel his eyes widen, then narrow in a glare cold enough to send the judge back to wiping his brow. He had explicitly instructed the man not to include that part of the ceremony. He felt Chris sway a little beside him, and Zach found himself turning to face him, their similar height allowing Zach to look directly into Chris’ face.  Chris’ eyes were almost painfully wide, showing too much white. He looked as though he was about to faint.  Zach was all at once viciously angry, and found his hands clamping around Chris’ biceps of their own accord.  How dare he react this way? He’d signed the papers. He’d _agreed,_ damnit. This reluctance was childish. Chris’ faint, whispered “Zach…” did nothing to deter him. With a sharp jerk he brought Chris closer to him, their lips meeting for the first time in years. Zach could hear Chris’ muffled gasp, and felt the slightly humid puff of it against his lips. Zach’s mouth opened and Chris froze completely under his grasp, every muscle in his body stiffening with shock. Zach tilted his face slightly and thoroughly claimed his husband’s mouth.

It infuriated him that Chris refused to respond, just standing there in shock like a frightened virgin. Zach pulled away, wiping his mouth, as though he’d be able to remove Chris’ taste from him with the small, abrupt movement.  He heard a gasp, and Chris swayed on his feet. Zach had to check his instinctive movement to go to him. He heard a faint sound and Chris was whirling on his feet, running from the room.

Zach stood there dumbfounded as the sounds of retching carried to them clearly from the water closet down the hall.  The Judge and his assistant melted from the room. He heard a sharp laugh from behind him, and saw Mr. Greenwood saluting him with a small glass of brandy. “It seems the Viscount doesn’t care much for your kisses, Mr. Quinto.”

Zach felt his shock quickly turn to rage as the hot ball of fury seemed to turn his stomach to acid.

He had the presence of mind to grab his hat, walking stick and gloves before striding out of the room. Zach simply waited for Chris by the front door, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms over his chest. He was seething. At least he no longer had any question whether or not Chris was disgusted by his mouth. For a moment, Zach could feel Chris’ soft lips on his own, and he scrubbed his fingers across his lips as though to wipe away the feeling. How dare he? How _dare_ he humiliate him again? Zach heard a footstep and saw Chris standing there, still looking unwell.

“I have taken the liberty of hiring your belongings packed. Your home will be closed, as I have no need of another place in the city at this time. I, however have business to attend to before I join you at my home in the country.” Zach pushed off of the wall, taking a fierce pleasure at the way Chris took a step back as he advanced towards him. “You may use my coach for the ride. I am quite certain that riding a horse while you are so,” he sneered, “ _clearly_ unwell would be unwise.”

Chris opened his mouth to speak and Zach held up a hand, forestalling him. “My coach is quite comfortable if you would like to rest. After all, you’ll need your energy later.”

Chris blanched. Zach could smell Chris now, an unpleasantly sour scent of alcohol and more unpleasant things that seemed to linger around him. Zach recoiled, the sneer back on his lips. “I shall be home this evening. See that you bathe before I arrive.”

Chris’ deep flush was immensely satisfying.  He opened the door for his husband with the exaggerated, mocking courtliness that had so offended Chris before. Again, Zach gripped Chris’s bicep, steadfastly ignoring the heat from his body.

“You are not riding with me?” Chris’ quiet voice should not have this power to make Zach remember, damnit. He’d spent too many hours trying to forget. Trying to forget Chris.

“Clearly not. _Some_ of us work for a living, Mr. Quinto.” Calling Chris by his new last name gave Zach a fierce pleasure.

Chris stopped, standing stock still in the small foyer. “Mr. _What?_ I will not be taking your name, Zach. My family’s surname has been around longer than your family has even been in this country. It will not be changed. If anything, you should take _my_ name since you’re so damn enchanted with this title of mine.”

Zach’s grip tightened. “This is not the place for this discussion.”

Chris tilted his head. “Why is it not? You chose to mock me here. Bruce knows damn well that I never would have ever married you if I had even the remotest of choices…” Chris jerked his arm away from Zach’s punishing grip. “I will say what I please, Zach. I shall like to see you try to stop me.”

Zach’s lips twisted in a parody of a smile. He turned and continued out of the office, down the steps. He nodded to the waiting carriage man as he held the door open. “Jeffry. See to it that my husband is escorted to my home.” The huge man nodded, muscles bulging under the livery that he wore. Chris, who had stopped at the top of the steps, wincing when the bright sunlight hit his face, gaped at the size of the man Zach was currently addressing. Jeffry was also Zach’s bodyguard. He looked it. Zach almost smiled to see how quickly Chris moved towards the waiting carriage.

He watched, keeping his face dispassionate as he felt a small muscle in his jaw begin to twitch. “Oh. Darling… don’t hold dinner for me. I shall see you around nine tonight.” The small domestic statement caused Chris’s head to snap back on his neck, as though he had been punched, as was Zach’s intention.  The coach pulled away, quickly losing itself into the cross street’s busy traffic.

Zach found that he was whistling as he walked along the sidewalk.

 

[ See their wedding bands ](http://ringoblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/men-ring.jpeg)!  :)

  



	3. Chapter 3

* * *

_The library was quiet._

_Chris found himself licking his lip as he took notes on the text, his small, cramped handwriting filling the page in fits and bursts as his mind wandered. The holidays were coming, and Chris found himself excited about the small letter that was almost burning a hole in his pocket. Unfortunately, this was one of the few classes they did not share, so Chris had- he stole a glance at his pocket watch- another fifteen bloody minutes before he could finally tell Zach what he’d done. Everything was all arranged.  Chris reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the letter from his mother._

 

> Dearest Christopher,

> Your new friend Zach sounds like a lovely boy. Of course he will come to us over Christmas. How could you even wonder if it would be allowed? You know we have loads of space. Two letters in as many months, and most of them about him! Naturally I’m burning with curiosity to meet this friend of yours who has so captured your fancy.

> \--Mother

> P.S. Darling, I’ll be sure to have Higgins hide all the mistletoe. We wouldn’t want any mishaps.

_Chris blushed bright red, even at the eighth reading of the small missive. His mother knew him better than anyone, and he supposed that he had been rather obvious in his regard. Still, the idea of Zach spending two months with him made his stomach jump around in excitement._

_A hissed whisper floated over to him, jolting him out of his thoughts._

_“Shush! Not so loud! If they find out we’re doing this then we’ll be expelled for sure.”_

_The scoffing sound was sharp, echoing in the silence of the library. Chris looked up, realizing that his table was not overtly visible from the front entrance. Chris cocked his head, listening._

_“Don’t be a dolt. No one will know it was us. All we have to do is set him up. That little bastard will leave of his own accord; that or the Headmaster will boot him from the school. All you need to do is make sure you have the camera.”_

_“Simple enough. My mother sends me whatever I wish. I told her I have a burning passion for photographing fauna.”_

_The joined laughter was loud enough that it muffled the small scrape of Chris’s chair as he stood up, creeping towards the talking boys. Their whispers were low enough that Chris couldn’t discern who was speaking, but he didn’t like what he’d heard so far. He hid behind a bust of Socrates and peered around the shelf, glimpsing the two figures. They had moved away from the doorway just far enough that Chris still couldn’t clearly identify them._

_“So who are you going to get to do it?” There was a gagging sound. “I certainly don’t want to have to have that little catamite grabbing me. Even if it is just for a moment!”_

_Chris’s eyes narrowed._

_“I will.”_

_“Surely not!”_

_Chris could see the taller boy nod. “I shall count it as a job well spent. Anything to rid us of the Plebeian little pest. Ah, I can tell what you’re thinking. You worry about retribution. No worries. I’ve taken care of that particular problem as well.”_

_“No. Really?”_

_Chris could hear the smugness in the taller boy’s voice and his eyes narrowed even further.  Before he could move forward, the bell rang. The two boys melted into the corridor, lost in the mingled footsteps as boys escaped from lessons on their way to the mid-day meal. Chris walked back to his little table in the back of the library and gathered his belongings. His fingers brushed the note and he grinned, promptly forgetting about the overheard whispered conversation_ . _He did not see Zach until much later. Zach had been in a foul mood, moody and unwilling to talk to Chris about what was bothering him. It took several hours after their last meal (a meal where Zach’s attention was spent firmly on the plate of food in front of him, ignoring Chris completely) for Chris to finally track him down. Zach was curled up in a small window seat in one of the more picturesque windows. The window was on a small landing, cut into one of the lesser-used staircases. Chris was sure that Zach had to have heard his approach on the stairs, but he sat there, gazing out into the dark gardens below, the moonlight from the evening just barely casting his features with light._

_Chris stopped short, the grin at finding his friend draining away at the picture Zach presented. He felt as though all of his air had left his lungs at once. He felt hot, then cold, then hot again, flushing with awareness of this other person, this other boy who had no idea of how much he was wanted. Chris felt his body respond, and was ashamed at his reaction. Surely this wasn’t normal, wasn’t expected for him to want this boy more than he’d ever wanted any of the girls his parents had paraded in front of him._

_“I can tell you’re there you know.”_

_Chris cleared his throat awkwardly and took the last few steps up to the landing. Zach wiped surreptitiously at his cheeks and glared at Christopher as he approached, desperately trying not to show anything of his previous thoughts in his expression. “Finally found you. You can’t hide forever!”_

_“Maybe I wished to be alone.”_

_Chris’s step faltered and Zach looked up from his brooding contemplation of the school grounds below him. His demeanor altered at Chris’s crestfallen face and he rolled his eyes, shifting so that Chris could sit beside him on the small seat.  “Oh damn and blast. You’re impossible to stay mad at.”_

_Chris stiffened, poker-like on the small, uncomfortable bench. “You were… angry at me? Why?”_

_“Oh it’s just… I...” Zach’s exasperated breath huffed out with such force that it sent the hair on his forehead fluttering. “You’ll be informed anyway. I suppose you should hear it from me.”_

_Chris was completely confused. He blinked. “What are you talking about? Of what would I be informed?”_

_Zach started plucking at a loose string on the pants of his trousers. “Your mother’s ring was found in my belongings. Along with some money.”_

_Chris was even more confused. He sat there waiting. Zach looked up briefly and his eyes seemed enormous as he spoke. “I didn’t! I swear I would never stoop to stealing! But the Headmaster wouldn’t listen. Five switches, and the warning that if I even toed out of line one more time I would have to leave.”_

_Chris felt as though he’d been punched. “That’s ludicrous. You would no more steal from someone than… than… strip down naked and flounce around in Bertha’s pantaloons!” He was pleased that his words had made Zach snort briefly with laughter, for indeed the idea of anyone wearing their Matron’s unmentionables was… quite horrifying actually.  He reached out and stilled Zach’s hands, looking into his face. “I will speak to Headmaster Abrams. I know you would never do anything to hurt me, Zach. And you know that my mother’s ring….” He shook his head. He’d reported that his ring was missing not three days ago. Usually he kept it on him at all times, but it had gone missing sometime during his bath Tuesday last. “I’m just pleased that it has been recovered.” Chris broke off his conversation, watching almost hypnotized as Zach licked his lips, still looking up into Chris’s face. Chris was all at once painfully aware that he was still holding both of Zach’s hands in his. He shifted his grip, turning them and tracing a finger over the calluses and rough skin that he found there. Zach’s hands had always fascinated him._

_Zach made a small sound, and Chris’s  gaze darted up to his. Their faces were only inches apart._

_“I…” But Chris didn’t know what to say. The sound bled away into the night. He couldn’t hear anything over his pounding heart, and watched as Zach drew closer…._

_…and closer…_

_He couldn’t say who had kissed whom, but when their lips met it was though he had touched one of the new electronic machines that produced sparks of different hues and colors. Chris was too stunned; unable to do much more than press his lips chastely against Zach’s. He’d never kissed anyone before, and the small pressure against his lips was at once the most amazing and terrifying thing he’d ever felt.  The moment could have lasted for an hour. Time had no meaning in that instant, and as they separated, Chris had just a moment to begin to smile, feeling all at once as though he’d been gifted with something special._

_The blinding flash of light stunned them both into springing apart. Laughter, cruel and mean as it echoed through the stairwell, bounced off the surfaces and back made it sound as though hundreds of people were there, mocking them. There was a gasp and Zach jerked away from him, pushing him with such strength that Chris fell off the small settee, landing painfully on his tailbone onto the cold floor. Chris only had a moment to blink up at Zach in confusion, the sound of the laughter swirling around him, before Zach was gone, the sound of pounding feet echoing the sound of his pounding heart._

* * *

 

Chris awoke with a gasp of air. He floundered, catching his temple sharply on the carriage glass. For a horrible moment, he did not know where he was; the shared settee could have been the one shared with Zach so many years ago.  His head still throbbed. Chris groaned, holding his temples with his fingers, pressing against each spot to try to relieve the pressure. He heard his walking stick strike the floor of the carriage, and couldn’t muster up the energy to much care. His stomach rolled unpleasantly. Chris was grateful that he had nothing else to bring up.

He hadn’t thought of that in years.  He sighed, looking morosely out to the passing green scenery. Still, the memory lingered. By the time he had gotten to his feet, Zach was nowhere to be found. He did find the photographer, and the resultant beating sent the boy to the hospital and Chris home in disgrace to his parents. Chris’s father had been unamused at the amount of money it had taken to keep that little adventure quiet. By the time Chris had returned to school in January, Zach had been gone.  The letters he’d written to his friend, his desperation to try to somehow explain what had happened had all been returned unopened with a small note from someone called Joseph who had told Chris that Zach had disappeared completely and to please cease writing immediately, as the letters were causing his mother grief.

Chris discovered very quickly how easy people’s perceptions shifted, how they changed and could be so easily thrown away. At first he’d been heartbroken to realize that Zach had been so disgusted by Chris kissing him that he had run away. It had been several days later before he’d remembered that whispered conversation and had put things together. Chris still didn’t know if they had just happened upon him and Zach, or if he’d been followed, but it didn’t much matter. They clearly hadn’t counted on Chris taking the camera, and on beating the boy so badly that he’d been afraid to talk about anything he’d seen.

Chris sighed, stretching out in the small space. He tapped on the door, and the deep voice of the gargantuan servant spoke “Yes, m’Lord?”

Chris didn’t want to be finicky, no doubt having been warned as such by Zach, but he was rather tired of being cooped up in this carriage. “I was just wondering when we’d be stopping.” He forced a smile into his voice, ignoring the feeling of being imprisoned that looking up at the giant man gave him.  He had no idea where Zach lived. The fact that his belongings had already been packed up and sent ahead of him made Chris seethe with pent up frustration and anger. It spoke of certainty, and indeed Zach had had very little reason to doubt that he would not accept his proposal. It was a struggle to not let any of that show in his voice, however.

“Not too long. D’ya need anything?”

Let’s see. He was destitute, ill from too much wine and dancing the night before, and whored out to a man that loathed him for the next year of his life. “Some laudanum. Failing that vodka will work,” he muttered under his breath. Then louder, “nothing. I am well, thank you.” He forced a smile, nodding when the man closed the small trap door. Chris noticed that the small window had a glass catch on it, allowing him to open it and latch the small plate of glass out of the way. He did so, the small breeze ruffling his sweaty hair. He could not wait to bathe.  Zach’s words sunk in and he cringed.

Not quite what he’d imagined when he had spared a thought of his future marriage. Not that he’d spared too many thoughts of such a state of late. Karl had insisted that he go out after the year’s mourning from his parent’s deaths was over, and began throwing him into what seemed like one wild night after another. Chris had participated, knowing that Karl had his best interests at heart. Still he had been very careful to ignore the woman that had vied for his attention. He’d learned his lesson and had never allowed himself to yearn for another man since his youth. His mother had been adamant that he never allow a woman to ‘get him in trouble’, so  while he had no problem with dancing and flirting, his attentions had not gone much further. Chris frowned now as he thought of what Karl would say when he was informed of Chris’s whirlwind nuptials. Would he be disgusted? True, same-sex marriages weren’t exactly unheard of, but in his social class it was fairly rare where bloodlines became an issue.

The thought made him feel worse. He frowned out at the house he could see in the distance, and knew at once that it had to be Zach’s. It had several floors, and the white brick fairly gleamed in the afternoon light. It was no surprise when the carriage slowed, turning into small path that quickly broadened into a brick-lined road. The horses’ hooves clopped along merrily and Chris straightened as he searched for some kind of glimpse of … something. Some hint, or some showing of what his new husband was like from the landscaped garden that surrounded him. Nothing. It looked like one of his parents homes. Opulent, perfectly landscaped. No hint as to the people inside, other than the obvious wealth.

The carriage stopped with a small jerk and Chris had a moment of terror as he thought briefly of staying in the carriage. He frowned at his missish behavior and opened the small door, hopping down before the large man, Jeffry could help him.

“Christopher? Is that my Chris?” Chris froze, his heart actually trembling in his chest as he heard the voice, the same voice that had kissed over his skinned knees, sang him to sleep when he was ill, and let him spend his free time in the kitchens, even though that was the last place a boy of his ilk should be.

“Lisbet?” The sound was just a small whisper of shock.

Then she was there, flying down the steps as fast as her plump figure could carry her, arms stretched wide in welcome. Chris had to blink once, hard, his lips trembling a little as she threw her arms around him. She smelled the same she’d done his whole life, faintly of lemon and lye. Her white apron was starched within an inch of its life and scratched unpleasantly against his cheek as he bent his taller frame to hug her back.

“Oh, Lisbet.” Chris murmured, closing his eyes for a moment, completely uncaring of what sort of picture he must present in his wrinkled clothes, hugging the cook. Then the reality of her being there hit him and he stood back.

“Look at ya! You look like hell, boy and I won’t be beggin’ your pardon for saying so. Speak my mind I will when I see such foolishness.  Aye, and I can guess what you’ve been up to with your wild ways.” She grinned up at him, uncaring of her missing teeth. She shook a finger at him. “Ah, you can’t hide from me, Mr. Christopher. I know what a night of carousing looks like. Are you visiting then?” She seemed all at once to remember her place and stood back, trying to adopt a more sober look to her face. Her lips quirked enough that it made Chris, who not so long ago was thinking of just sleeping in Zach’s carriage rather than go into his house, smile faintly in return. She had worked at his parent’s home, and he had not seen her in months. For her to be here now, cheering him up when he was feeling most dismal, seemed nothing short of a miracle.

“Ah, no, Lisbet. I will be staying here for quite awhile, actually.” He winced, running his fingers absently through his hair.

Lisbet paused in the act of turning and walking back up the steps. She stopped, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“I ah, I married Zach today. A few hours ago, actually.”

The other eyebrow slowly creeped up to join the first. Lisbet’s eyes narrowed minutely, and Chris had the feeling she was really looking at him.  Her whole demeanor changed. “Ah. Well then. Let’s get you to your suite of rooms, then shall we m’lord?” the title gave Chris pause and he couldn’t hide the distress that stole over his face. Lisbet turned and continued back up the steps.

Chris blew out a breath, casting a look around at the few other people who were in the small courtyard. Jeffry, and another man whose name Chris didn’t know very carefully made no eye contact with him as they moved the carriage out of the front area and down a smaller path that obviously led to Zach’s stables. He swallowed, feeling very foreign and very alone. Chris sighed again and followed her up the steps and into his new home.

His father had always told him that “new money” people were always ostentatious, overcompensating with their new money in ways that “their betters” would find insufferable.  Chris found no evidence of that. The doors opened up to a large double staircase. The cherry wood gleamed, and the few paintings and urns that were scattered around the room were quite tasteful. In fact, most of it was much like something Chris would have seen in his own home. The floor had several rugs on it, the dark wood looking almost alive as it gleamed with wax.  A man, obviously a butler by the way he was dressed, held out his hand for Chris’s hat, gloves and walking stick. Chris wanted to remove his jacket, feeling all at once horribly hot and overtired, but knew that such behavior would have been uncouth. Had he been at his own home, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but being here in such unfamiliar surroundings made him feel overly self-conscious.

“Well, quit gaping about like a green girl at her first barn dance and come along! I can’t be spendin’ my whole evening waiting around for you.”  Lisbet stood, the three extra stairs making her even with Chris’s tall frame. He blushed and grinned, darting a look under his eyelashes to the butler, who had done a poor job of stifling a snort, by turning it into a small cough. Chris turned his grin up at Lisbet, feeling all at once very grateful for her presence. This would be intolerable, otherwise.

“I’m coming. Don’t get your petticoats in a twist, old woman.” Chris jogged up the few steps, following beside his old nursemaid.

The butler definitely laughed this time.

“Ugh. Haven’t changed a bit, you dratted boy. Zoe has more refined manners than you!. Here. Your rooms are through here. There’s an attached bath, and you’ll be beggin my pardon but I think that might be the first place you should investigate.”

Chris felt Zoe’s name like a dig to his solar plexus, and he faltered as she threw open the doors to what was clearly the master bedroom. “Ah, this is where I’m to sleep?”

“Aye, lad. Come along. I’ll show you where your things are, then I really must be going. Supper to finish. Mr. Quinto keeps country hours here, and we’ll be eatin’ around eight this evening. Make sure you dress for dinner a’course. I had Jennie unpack your belongings and such. Wish I had known it was you that Mister was marryin’; I would have been sure to have some of your favorites for your wedding supper. Will you be going on a honeymoon, then?”

Chris was overwhelmed at seeing his clothes stacked neatly next to Zach’s in the closet, and didn’t answer her for a moment. “I do not know, Lisbet.” Chris could not picture Zach taking a honeymoon trip with him. She was still talking as she marched into the attached bathing room. Chris heard a squeak and heard the sound of water. Chris peered around the doorway and gaped to see the mammoth-sized marble bathtub, with water running into it. He could see steam curling into the cooler air of the room, and Chris belatedly realized that Zach must have had this area fitted with the new faucet system, one that used a small coal-burning furnace to heat the water that was then piped through the faucet.

Amazing. Chris hadn’t had a chance to refit his own home with such newfangled technology. Lisbet chattered on, something about feeling free to take a nap if he wished, and she would bring in a light meal for him since supper wouldn’t be for several hours yet.  She quit the room, leaving Chris fairly salivating over the sandalwood-scented steam. He quickly stripped off, fairly groaning with bliss as he sank into the water. There were several soaps and bath oils, and he chose something that smelled faintly familiar, cleaning himself and washing his hair. He soaked for at least an hour; carefully not thinking of any one thing in particular, until the heat from the bath had completely dissipated, leaving the water tepid. Chris pulled the plug on the bathtub, and watched with childlike glee as the water swirled down the drain. He got out of the bathtub and went to the sink, quickly finding and using the tooth powder that was stored in a small glass vial.

Naked, Chris walked out into the larger bedroom and quickly found a silken pair of pajamas bottoms to sleep in.  He wanted a nap before he was forced to face Zach again. Chris felt lethargic, but his stomach gurgled when he saw the simple meal of apples and cheese sitting on a small table near the fireplace. Barefoot, Chris padded over to investigate. Lisbet had left him what looked like lemonade and Chris couldn’t contain the delighted smile as he quickly drank the sweetly tart drink. He had another glass, and another, realizing that he was horrifically thirsty. He ignored the apples in favor of the cheese and walked back towards the bed, nibbling as he went.  There was a floor-length cheval mirror in the corner of the room. The thoughts that he’d been suppressing for most of the evening threatened to break over him. He tightened his jaw and pushed them back once again. Chris stared at himself for a moment. He didn’t look any different, really.

Funny, that. He felt years older than from where he started this morning at his club, innocently accepting the urgent summons from his solicitor. Chris stretched, yawning and skittishly crawled up and into the fluffy duvet, feeling horribly as though he was intruding in Zach’s space. Which was ridiculous, really. Chris turned on the pillow and pulled the bed covers up to his chin. It was as though lying down made him realize exactly just how exhausted he truly was. Chris didn’t fight it as sleep overtook him, cradling him in a dreamless darkness.

* * *

 

The door to the bedroom flew open with a crash and a bang, and Chris almost leaped out of bed, startled out of his sleep. He gaped at the enraged Zach that stood there, hands fisted at his side. Zach stalked in a few actual steps before stopping short, staring at Chris as though he’d never seen him before.

Chris fought the urge to knuckle the sleep out of his eyes, instead concentrating on his thundering heartbeat. The door, when it closed behind his husband, seemed inordinately loud in the silent room. His hand felt cold against his chest as he tried to calm his heartbeat. “Wh… How?”

“You did not come down for the evening meal.” Chris didn’t know this version of Zach; not the way his voice stated the fact, completely devoid of emotion as it was. He sounded like he was reading a stock report, but the look on his face had been absolute chiseled fury.

“I—ah. Yes. I fell asleep. I’m dreadfully sorry. I’ll dress at once and join you downstairs.”  Chris didn’t much care for the way Zach took a slow, measured step forward.  It reminded him of the debutantes’ mothers as they looked at him and calculated exactly how much he was worth per quarter.

“No. I do not think so.” Zach’s lips twisted again, a cold smile to match his voice.

Chris floundered for a moment, struggling to get out of the bedclothes that he had managed to wrap fully around himself in the short time that he had been asleep. He slid out off of the bed, feeling horrifically embarrassed at his state of undress. Zach’s gaze was roving over his naked chest in a way that made him feel even more unclothed than he actually was. Chris coughed, clearing his throat to rid it of the blockage. “Ah, actually you look quite famished. We can go down. I’ll just.. ah, as I said dress myself and I shall meet you downstairs.”

“Oh indeed. I am.” Zach’s eyes had never before seemed so dark.

Chris found himself responding to the heat he saw there, and blushed at his body’s reaction. _Wait. Had Zach said something?_ “I beg your pardon?”

“I _am_ famished. Quite ravenous, actually.” Zach took a step forward.

Chris took a step back, his back bumping up against the wall’s paneling. He shivered a little as Zach took another step forward. His body seemed very warm, giving off heat like a furnace. Chris pressed as far back into the wall as he could. It was the most curious sensation that he found himself feeling; terror and excitement, trepidation and a desire to reach out and touch. The wall was cold at his back and Chris bit his lip, unsure what was expected of him. “Ra-uh, ravenous, Zach?”  He licked his lips again, noting that Zach tracked the movement with his eyes, like a cat with a small, furry bit of prey. Chris opened his mouth to say something- later, he was never sure what- but before he could, Zach leaned in and claimed the small space that separated their mouths, pressing his kiss onto Chris’s slightly wet lips.

Chris heard a muffled sound, and pressed his lips back against Zach’s. His mind took him back all those years and they could have been two boys on a in the moonlight, shyly acknowledging each other.

Zach tilted his neck back. “Open your mouth.” Chris’s eyes flew open in startlement. He had seen people kiss like this, obviously, but never anyone he knew.  A tiny part of him realized that Zach did not seem angry with him. His voice had lost that cold tone. Chris was both pleased and curious, wanting to see how much further he could take this new, kinder Zach.

Chris tentatively opened his mouth and Zach kissed him once again, his mouth moving over his in such a way that Chris felt weak in the knees. His hands came up to press lightly on Zach’s shoulders, steadying himself, and Zach tilted his head for a slightly different angle in response.  Chris felt Zach’s tongue slide against his, the slightly rough sensation sending shivers all over his body. His hands clutched at Zach’s shoulders, and Chris felt Zach step even more impossibly closer to him. The kiss changed, becoming even more demanding. Chris heard a breathless moan vibrate in his throat and felt Zach’s hands, slightly rough as they slid down his back, sliding over his rear end and pulling their groins together. Zach pulled his face away and swore for a moment, and Chris felt himself pushed back again against the wall. He was so stunned that he felt a sharp pain on his cheekbone and winced away from the corner of the headboard where it struck his face.

He hardly noticed.

Zach had pressed his own hardness against him, reaching down and pulling up Chris’s leg, hooking his palm under the back of Chris’s knee.  He pressed even closer and Chris realized what he was feeling; that impossibly hard length pressing into the small space between Chris’s cock and his hip bone. He was surprised at himself, surprised at how quickly he removed Zach’s jacket with his shaking hands, surprised at how quickly he went up on tiptoe as Zach moved so that they rocked together.  He could feel the muscles is Zach’s back tense as Chris moved his hips, tightening his buttocks and thrusting into the delicious friction Zach was giving him.

Zach’s mouth sucked a bruise under Chris’s ear. Chris thought that his legs were going to completely collapse. His head knocked against the wall again as he sharply moved his neck. “Zach…” Was that his voice? He sounded wrecked, as though he’d been gargling gravel. Zach’s mouth moved down his neck, nipping here, laving the stubble on his neck and moving down to Chris’s collarbone.  Chris swallowed hard, knowing he was moaning again, the sound leaving his throat on tiny, weak sounding breaths of air. Zach seemed to follow the movement of Chris’s Adam’s apple with his mouth, kissing over it.

“You said earlier that you would suck my cock.”

Zach’s voice, coming out of nowhere startled Chris into freezing, dragging open his eyes as though they were weighted down. Just because he did not have the … practical experience… that Zach seemed to exude from his very pores, did not mean that Chris was completely unaware of what happened between men, or between men and women for that matter,  in the bedroom.  He was astounded at the way his mouth fairly salivated. He wanted to feel that hard heat in his mouth, feel it slide against his tongue.  “I… no…” He could not speak. His words had deserted him.

Zach’s face hardened as he took a step back.  Chris was hardly aware of what came out of his mouth, but he could immediately tell that what he had gasped had been the wrong thing.

“No?”  Zach’s voice was back to the same cold, almost-indifferent tone he’d had in the beginning.

“No..! I …” But Zach’s hand slid under the silk of his pajamas, gripping Chris’s cock. Rational thought completely left him, as he felt someone touch him for the first time. He could not speak. Chris’s head fell forward against Zach’s shoulder as he shuddered helplessly in Zach’s possessive touch. Just when Chris was close, when his body had broken out in gooseflesh as every bit of tension seemed to run through his flesh at once, Zach pushed him away, roughly, spinning around on his foot and striding away from Chris.

Chris’s legs did give out then, sending him pitching forward onto the side of the bed, catching himself with his hands. His pajamas slid off of his legs, pooling around his feet.  He looked up at Zach, desperate.

“Get onto the bed.”

Things were moving much too quickly for Chris.  He managed to clamber up onto the fluffy mattress, sinking slightly into the spongy surface. He recognized at once the scent of Zach on the covers, and had a somewhat insipid desire to bury his face in it, to surround himself in that smell.

He heard a soft sound at the foot of the bed and Chris pushed himself up on his elbows, one leg drawn up somewhat bashfully to hide his own hardness from Zach’s intense gaze. Zach had removed his clothes and stood there only in cotton smalls. He was muscled and pale in the evening’s light. Whorls of hair covered his arms and chest, trailing down into a small line that disappeared below the drawstring.

Zach tilted his head, looking down at Chris spread before him on the mattress. “Christopher. Chris.” Chris forced himself to look up and give Zach his full attention. It was difficult to focus. He felt dizzy and overheated. “You must tell me if you truly want this. I will not have you crying foul later.”

“What?”

Zach rolled his eyes, kneeling on the mattress and placing a small vial of liquid near his bent knee.  “You’ve made it clear that you don’t want me, but you so clearly,” and here Zach cast his gaze from Chris’s toes to Chris’s head and back down, “need what I can give you. Do you want me, Chris?” Zach’s fingertips trailed lightly over Chris’s ankle, up the inside of his leg and trailing down over his knee.  Chris watched Zach’s long fingers over his skin and whined, trying to push his leg into Zach’s grip.  Something was wrong with what Zach had said, but the sense of wrongness drained away as Zach leaned forward over him.  Chris’ eyes widened almost painfully. Zach had asked him a question but he could not focus. He was ashamed at his own reaction, at how easily liquid slid from the slit in his cock. At how desperately he wanted whatever Zach would give him.

“I…” He coughed, trying to clear his throat. Zach’s humid breath puffed over the head of Chris’s cock, the sound strangled in the back of his vocal cords. “Oh _god._ Please! Please, Zach.” He was rewarded by Zach’s tongue as it slid down over him, sliding around the head of his cock, lapping up the wetness that glinted there in the faint light.

“Please, what?”

Why did the dratted man insist on his speaking?! Chris moaned instead, arching his hips slightly, nervously urging for more of Zach’s mouth. Zach’s hands closed over his hips, pressing him back into the mattress.

“Please, _what_ Chris? What do you want?” Another swipe of Zach's tongue, tracing on the underside of his shaft, flicking against his balls and back up, idly lingering here and there, as though he could care less at the way Chris whined and bucked against Zach’s strong grip.

“I.. oh, ohhh…” He shook his head, trying to focus. “I want… I… I want you.   _Nuuuugggh_ , please…..” Chris babbled, unknowing exactly what he was saying, just aware of the words leaving his lips as he said whatever came to mind, desperate for the heat of Zach’s mouth.

Chris heard a satisfied grunt of sound, but before he could comment, Zach’s mouth completely engulfed his cock. The head bumped against the back of Zach’s throat and Chris _screamed;_ his body arched as much as he could, his hips trembling against Zach’s unmoving grip. Zach continued moving his mouth over him, his tongue wet against Chris’s length. His balls tightened, and Chris felt his nipples pebble as moved his hands over Zach’s head, uncaring as he yanked sharply on the hair fisted in his hands. He knew he was about to come and tried to warn Zach, pulling sharply on his hair to pull him off his cock, but Zach only sucked harder, tonguing the slit and lightly scraping his teeth against his skin.

Chris flung one arm over his mouth, muffling his moans in his wrist. He saw lights behind his eyes as his release hit him with all the subtlety of a thunderstorm. Chris forgot where he was for a moment, sagging back into the mattress. His body twitched as Zach licked him once again, swallowing the rest of the cloudy white liquid that had gathered there.  He was horribly sensitive, yet completely relaxed as Zach sat up onto his elbows, pushing himself up into a kneeling position. Chris’s eyes opened slowly as he felt Zach tugging on him, urging him to roll over onto his knees.

“Zach,” Chris’s whisper seemed horribly loud in the silent room.

Zach’s hands slid over his back, sliding in the sweat on his skin, his fingers digging slightly into the flesh there, hard enough to leave white lines on Chris’s back that quickly turned pink as the blood refilled the small scratch. Chris adjusted himself on his elbows, all at once horribly embarrassed at the position in which he now found himself, at the way he was spread out again before Zach like a buffet.  Zach did not speak, but Chris could feel him mouthing something against his shoulder as he pressed his body against Chris’s.   Chris licked his lips and pressed his ass against Zach, sucking in his breath to feel how painfully hard Zach still was under the cotton smalls he still wore.  He moaned at the sensation and moved slightly, moving his knees so that his ass was slightly higher.

“Yes, that’s it….” Zach muttered into Chris’s skin and moved away from him for a moment. There was a soft sound, the sharp smell of something spicy, and Chris could feel fingers on the globes of his ass, pulling him slightly open. He groaned again, pushing the slight fear down to nothing. Zach moved quickly, and Chris jumped at feeling one finger enter him, slick with whatever it was that had been in the small vial Zach had carelessly thrown onto the bed beside them. The feeling of being stretched, of a slight awkward fullness caused Chris to gasp.

“Zach….” His name on Chris’s lips again. It seemed the only thing that he could say, the only syllable that made sense.

Zach didn’t speak but Chris felt himself stretched and suddenly he wanted Zach, desperately wanted to know what Zach felt like inside of him.

“C’mon, Zach…” Chris whined, wiggling under him. There was a breathless chuckle and the fingers left him.

“You’re sure?”

Sure about what? Chris had no idea to what Zach was referring, unless it was whether or not Chris wanted him or not.

“Yes… I… _yes_.”

A small nudge, the feel of Zach's hands on his hips once again, and Zach was moving, pushing the head of _oh god that’s his cock; Zach’s cock is inside of me_ his length inside of him. Chris forgot how to breathe. Zach seemed to freeze for a moment.

“You… you’ve never..?”

“Doesn’t matter… just… just…” Chris’s words left him again as he pushed back onto Zach’s cock. He had no words for this feeling. He just felt like he would die if he didn’t feel all of Zach inside of him- now.

There was a strangled sound and Zach pushed in another few inches, panting hard against Chris’s shoulder.  Chris moved on pure instinct, moving away from Zach’s body. Zach moaned and followed Chris’s movement, seeking to be closer, sliding back inside of Chris with a wet, slick sound.

They both cried out, the sounds mingling together.

Chris pushed back again, and Zach seemed to snap, thrusting in and out of his passage with strength, holding Chris’s hips where he wanted them.  Chris bit his lip, the burning stretch almost too much. It was uncomfortable, but Chris had the vague sort of sense that this was something Zach wanted and it was such a simple thing to give him.  He desperately wanted Zach to be pleased with him again. He waited as Zach finished, collapsing on top of him with a muffled grunt. The weight was too much and Chris pitched forward onto the bed, face squished uncomfortably into the pillow that was wet from his sweat.

Chris lay there for a moment, listening to his heartbeat slow down. He felt vaguely proud of himself, pleased that he had accomplished something so much a part of a married pair. True, he had not wanted initially to be married to Zach, but really if this was what was going to happen every night that they lie together he thought rather that he’d had the better part of the bargain.

Perhaps that was why it was such a shock when, without a word or gesture, Zach rolled off bed, caught up his trousers and left the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind him.

 

  
A/N: I hope you've enjoyed it so far..... Warnings MOAR MELODRAMA AHEAD! :D:D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Karl Motherfucking Urban. That's why. 
> 
> :D

Zach heard the door to his dining room open and his fingers tightened so much on the fragile china cup that he was rather astonished that it did not break. He could tell it was Chris by the way the person paused in their advancement into the room. Had it been a servant, the footsteps would not have ceased.  Zach did not turn, nor did he acknowledge Christopher in any way.

He simply found that he could not.

The previous evening, Zach had left their bed, mind reeling from his own actions. He was disgusted with the way that he had wanted nothing more than to wrap himself about the sleepy, drowsy heat that Chris put off, to curl into his... _husband's_....body and drift off into sated slumber. He had spent hours furiously pacing in his library finding solace only in his decanter of scotch. Even then, his relief was intangible. He could not seem to make sense of everything that had happened- when everything that happened went against what Zach knew to be truth.

Zach was completely unprepared for the way Chris stopped at his elbow, bent down and quickly kissed Zach’s cheek, before continuing on his way to the server. His knuckles tightened briefly as he fought not to react. Zach stared at the back of his husband’s neck as it turned quite red, his mouth falling open in utter shock. Zach's fingers clutched the fragile cup handle again, and it cracked with a small, almost apologetic sound.

“Is that sausage pie? Oh,  _ excellent _ .”

Zach watched surreptitiously around the side of his newspaper as Chris bit his lip, helping himself to a rather large portion of the breakfast dish. 

“Of  _ course  _ you daft creature. I told ya I’d be making your favorite dishes to feed you up. You’re skinny as a girl, you are!”

Chris beamed down at the woman, leaving the plate on the breakfast bar. He seized a fork and stabbed a piece of the pastry, shoving a large bite into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and set down the fork, grabbed the old servant’s hand and kissed the back of it in an almost courtly manner.  The older woman snatched her hand back, blushing almost girlishly.

“Oh,  _ you _ . Charm the birds right out of the trees. Best be eatin’, honey.” She patted his cheek fondly and bustled out of the room, taking a tray of food with her.

Chris’ muffled, “Thanks, Lisbet,” sounded as though he were about to start laughing.  Zach felt sick, jealous of the small bit of affection between the two. He had not realized that Chris would ever have such a … personal relationship with someone from such a low birth. Zach was conscious of one thought, rising up through his body, causing him to have to set down the maligned tea cup before he crushed the paper thin china.  _ If her, why not me? _ Perhaps that was why his voice, when he finally did speak for the first time since Chris entered to break his fast, was so sharp.

“I thought she was called Elizabeth.”

Zach watched as Chris’ fond grin slowly drained away.  His beautiful eyes darkened slightly, and he cast his gaze down onto the spread of food, placing some poached eggs and what looked like some bacon onto his plate. He chanced a quick glance up at Zachary’s side of the table, but flicked his gaze back down to the surface before meeting Zach’s eyes. When he spoke, it was hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should be speaking.

“That’s her Christian name, yes. When I was quite young I could not pronounce it properly, and have called her ‘Lisbet’ ever since.”

“Hmm.”  Zach had to force himself to look away, and refocus on his newspaper. He didn’t miss the way Chris’ shoulders sagged. He inwardly winced, his instinct telling himself to apologize for his boorish behavior. Chris turned from the server and walked to the chair at the other end of the table. Zach felt an almost untamable mix of possessive emotion when Chris winced as he sat, paling a little as his rear end came into contact with the ornate cushion on the straight backed chair. As though he were in pain.

Zach stood up with a scrape of his boot on the hardwood floor. “Good morning.”

Chris sounded bewildered when he responded, “Have a good morning, Zach.” The words were spoken so quietly that Zach almost missed hearing them.

Zach strode from the room, his breakfast uneaten, his coffee practically untouched. His stomach churned with guilt.

Everything had seemed so clear. So perfectly planned out. Zach walked into his study and locked the door. He felt horribly constricted. Furiously he unfolded his neckcloth from its careful, artful fold and flung it onto a chair near the fireplace. His jacket followed, sliding off the seat onto the floor.  Zach, who normally took the utmost in care with his belongings, barely noticed as he began pacing, crossing his hands behind his back, clutching his wrists, mind whirling.

_ ** _

_ Everything seemed as though it were falling apart. When he had run from Chris, his ass burning from the Headmaster’s beating, Zach had never in his life felt so despondent. Realizing that Chris had lied to him had been like that moment of utter blindness after daring to look at the sun. It had sent him running down the stairs. He had stuffed his meager belongings into his satchel and had run; fleeing from the school in the middle of the night like the thief they had believed him to be. He just had not understood how Chris could have been so cold as to hide his belongings in Zach’s pillowcase. He had to have known that they would be found. The small dorms for his year group had had no secrets. Why though? Why Chris would have done that? _

_ That night, Zach had taken shelter in a barn, scurrying deep in the hay as he sobbed, hiding his face in his shirt, unbelieving that he could have trusted Chris so totally. He’d even believed himself to be in love! How ridiculous to believe that someone like Chris would ever… _

_ And worse. _

_ That Chris would set up that whole humiliating experience. All those boys’ voices echoing with hateful, mocking laughter, the blinding flash of white light, and realizing that they had set up a camera to capture his humiliation had all seemed burned into his memory. _

_ And worse. _

_ That he had not been able to go home, to face his mother or his brother with his failure. They had been so proud that he was going to get a proper education. His mother had spent so much of their meager funds on clothes for him; his brother had worked double shifts in the factory so that Zach could have books. He absolutely could not bear to face them. He could not fathom trying to explain how he had thrown his entire future away because he had trusted one beautiful boy with everything that had been in his heart. _

_ And still worse. _

_ That letter. The one he wished with all his soul that he could take back. That he had never, drunkenly sent. He’d gone from farm to farm, working for a few cents here, or a few cents there; odd jobs, mostly. He’d spent most of his funds on a bottle of very expensive brandy and had drunk himself into a stupor. But… memories. Fuzzy with alcohol, Zach had vague relocations of a letter, written with tears dripping onto the parchment, a shameful, pleading letter written to Chris, begging for some sort of explanation. _

_ And the very worst. _

_ That when he had finally returned home that summer, it with only vague thoughts of keeping his humiliation to himself. Zach had decided that he would lie to his family, telling him that his marks had fallen so much that he had been booted from the Academy.  When he arrived in his neighborhood, he had not understood what his eyes told him, staring at the tenement he’d been born in; where he’d lived his whole life. _

_ His home, along with both the tenement buildings on each side of it, had burned to the ground.  The only thing there had been the burnt wood and ashes left from the destruction. Zach’s gaze had been centered on the blackened remains of a skeleton, reaching up through the rubble and debris as though still trying to escape. _

_ His mother, gone.  Joseph, gone. _

_ A neighbor had found Zach there, where he had sunk to his knees, staring solemnly at the destruction. She’d taken him in and had kindly told him how Joseph had gone into the burning building, time after time, helping the people out of the rickety steps. How his mother had never been found, trapped on the third floor where they had lived when the wooden fire escapes had burnt out from the middle. The floor had collapsed, then the building. The police had estimated that three or four hundred people (all of whom had resided in the one or two room apartments, often with families of ten or more, living unhygienically out of the small space) had perished in the fire. _

_ Zach had gone to his landlord, who had survived without a scratch on him, and had demanded an explanation of who was responsible. _

_ Chris’s family owned every building on the block. _

**

Zach stopped pacing, looking out the window. The glass had been partially warmed by the sun, and felt nice against his forehead, dotted as it was by perspiration.  He’d been so clear. Everything had been so perfectly planned. So why was could he not cease seeing the way Chris had winced when sitting to his meal? Why should the way Chris felt clenched around him, the way he had sounded when he begged, keep distracting him? It wasn’t as though he had not enjoyed all the same pleasures of the flesh before. Why did  _ this _ matter so much? Was Chris not just another- more convenient, certainly- fuck? 

Yet Chris  _ was _ different. He should have expected, even planned, for this eventuality. Zach spun from the window with a disgusted sound.  This was ridiculous.  He walked to the couch and threw himself down, stretching out his legs.  He was thinking too much because he was exhausted. If he had slept properly the night before, and had not been driven from his own bed by bewitching eyes and a surprisingly welcoming body, he would not be questioning his actions. Of course he was in the right.  Quite simply, he refused to entertain the thought that… no. He wasn’t wrong. Just tired. If he slept, perhaps his thoughts would be more ordered. Zach sighed, pressing on his stomach, trying to still its churning. He was grateful when sleep finally claimed him.

* * *

The sound of a door slamming woke him, startling him from sleep as though someone had blown a trumpet directly in his ear. Zach floundered, sliding off the couch and onto the floor before he could catch himself.

He’d been dreaming of moonlight.

He must have slept most of the day. Zach waited as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. It wasn’t full dark; instead the sun had just begun its descent onto the horizon. He stretched and yawned, crossing to the bar and pouring some water into a glass.

When they walked by the window, Zach found himself gaping at what he saw. Chris was walking with his arm flung around the shoulders of another man. Chris had his head back, laughing at something the gentleman had said.  Zach could not see who he was with. The smile on his husband’s face hit Zach with the force of a punch to the gut. Zach’s throat closed; his fingers tightened spastically on the glass of water. The glass hit the rug with a dull thud, and Zach was striding towards the door, unlocking it and letting it slam behind him.  A maid, tidying up the hallway, gave a startled squeak and flattened herself back against the wall. Zach, who had made it a point to learn all the names of his servants- recently acquired or no- barely noticed as he thundered down the stairs. His butler threw him a scandalized look before practically diving for the door, wrenching it open with such force that it actually banged against Zach’s shoulder in his haste to get it open.

Zach did not care.

He refused to run.  Zach saw Christopher, looking somewhat minuscule now with distance; throw his hands around the other man’s shoulders. They were standing near the gazebo, by the small pond that was not too far from Zach’s home. The pond was big enough to have a very small island near its center. The setting sun seemed to paint them in shadow, dark figures set against the whitewashed wood of the small structure. Zach recognized Karl Urban, Christopher's friend, instantly. His eyes narrowed.

“This is ... it is  _ unfathomable _ ! How could you, Chris? What could have possessed you to do such a foolish thing? Have you thought of Zoe at  _ all _ ?”

Zach creeped slightly closer on silent feet. He was standing in plain view, but the two were so intent on their conversation that his booted footstep went unnoticed.  Zach frowned as he watched Chris run his fingers through his hair, his heart giving a funny sort of flutter at the gesture, seen a hundred times when they were younger.

“Of _ course _ I have thought of Zoe! I have thought of practically naught else! Zach made me a deal that was actually quite reasonable, considering I am noth…”

“Oh _Zach_ , is it? _Reasonable_? Tell me, Chris, this the same ‘reasonable’ Zach that marked your _ face? _ ”

_ Marked his face? _ Zach opened his mouth to respond, but saw Karl reach out and gently touch Chris’ cheekbone with one finger. Zach heard a low sound and realized he had been the one to make it.

Karl whirled at the sound, turning from his examination. Zach’s eyes narrowed at the anger on Karl’s face. Zach didn’t even have time to defend himself before Karl’s fist connected with his jaw, snapping his neck back and causing Zach to see stars. He staggered back for a moment, shocked.

But only for a moment.

When Zach had underwent the monumental task of turning himself into a gentleman, of smoothing out all of his low-bred tendencies,  he had oft been complimented on how seamlessly he fit into Society. His intelligence, poise and level-headedness had served him well.  No one knew of the necessity of learning to defend himself, using the untamed, violent ways of the little guttersnipe he’d been. His street fighting skills were not exactly going to serve him on Wall Street, after all.

At Karl’s blow, Zach saw red. He cursed and leapt, swinging and connecting with the other man’s stomach with a satisfying sound. He drew his fist back and punched Karl in the face, sending the other man sprawling onto the floor. The bastard did not stay down for long, springing back up with the light of battle on his face.

Chris was between them in an instant.  He pushed between them both with a yell, separating them with a sharp push of each of his hands. Zach was not sure why the strength surprised him, but it gave him pause.

“You must…. No! I will not have the two of you acting like this.” Chris was so frustrated that his foot actually stamped onto the floor as though punctuating his statement. 

Zach, who had been in the process of simply shifting his body’s weight to step around his husband, caught the glimpse of a bluish, black mark on Chris’ cheekbone, slightly under his left eye. He froze, eyes widening, forgetting about Karl completely. His hands came up to cradle Chris’s face, tilting his cheek so that he could properly see the blemish. He ran the tip of one thumb over it, his heart thudding a crazed tattoo in his chest when he saw Chris’ slight flinch away from him. “Who struck you?”  His voice was lower than his normal speaking voice. Chris’ eyes widened slightly, and Zach was so close to his face that he felt the small puff of air from Chris’ hastily stifled gasp.

“What?”  Chris’s hands came up over his own, clutching them for a moment before dropping back to his side.

“You will tell me. That mark was not on your face yesterday.”

Chris’ flush was obvious, even in the darkening evening.  “Er…”

Zach raised an eyebrow. He suddenly remembered Chris hitting the headboard with his face, thrashing from side to side, uncaring of any small pain while Zach inflicted the most gorgeous sensations on his body.

“I, uh. Last night. When we were… um. Oh damn and blast. You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Chris trailed off, running his hand through his hair again, pulling back enough to disengage himself from Zach’s hands.  It was disconcerting how easily he slipped back into the amused way Chris used to sound when he caught out Zach teasing him. It almost hurt for Zach to remind himself that none of that… had been real.

There was a small cough behind Chris, and Zach was actually startled for a moment, having utterly forgotten that they were not alone. He took a step back from Chris, all at once able to feel the throbbing pain in his jaw from Karl’s blow.

Chris was quiet for a moment, watching each of them glare at each other. He sighed muttered something under his breath about both of them being idiots and walked out of the gazebo, disappearing in the finely manicured garden.

Zach refused to give Chris’ friend the satisfaction of rubbing his jaw, although it _was_ dreadfully painful. The man knew his way around his fists.

“I won’t apologize. Bruce has told me what you have done. Funny. When I spent all that time introducing Chris to the crème de la crème of New York Society, I had never imagined that I should have been introducing him to the male population as well.” Karl walked over to one of the benches and sat himself, looking coldly at Zach. “Are you sure that you know what you are doing?”

Zach wanted to roll his eyes. Only the very wealthy would ever waltz uninvited into someone’s home, have the gall to assault the one who owned the property, then demand answers to something that was fucking well none of their business. “I hardly think that you are the person to ask me that.” Zach’s gaze was caught by Chris, who was a tall shadow among shadows, standing out on the small pier, looking out into the vast star-filled night, reflected in the black water of the pond.

“ _I_ hardly think that you know this man you have married.”

Zach didn’t answer.

“Chris told me about you, you know.”

Zach felt everything in his body freeze. His head turned from where Chris was cautiously dipping one toe into the pond, to where Karl stood, leaning against one of the gazebo’s pillars, feeling as though his throat was too tight for his body. There was a flare of light and the scent of cherries on the air as Karl inhaled the sweet tobacco.   “Did he?” Oh, he could well imagine. Karl had not been at school with them, but yes. He could quite well imagine Chris boasting about the ‘small joke’ he’d participated in over drinks at his club.  Zach swallowed hard.  Here it was again. The confusion. A dichotomy of emotions. Either he felt fury at the idea that someone had marked Chris’ face, or he hated his husband with his very being.

It could not be both.

He would not let it be both.

“Yes. He did. You’ll find that Chris and I have very few secrets. He is, after all, my best friend.”

“How wonderful for you.” Zach’s clipped voice caused Karl to raise one eyebrow, just visible as the last of the sun’s rays disappeared onto the horizon.

“Karl! Are you coming or not? I want to swim!” Chris’ voice floated back to them in the air.

Karl moved as though to take a step forward and Zach watched as his own hand whiped out and clamped down on the bulkier man’s forearm, fingers curling tightly in a bruising grip as though his hand belonged to someone else. Karl dropped the cigar onto the floor, and stubbed out the lit end with his boot heel.  “You do not deserve him. I hope you know that. You have no idea what you are to him.” Almost casually, he jerked his arm out of Zach’s clutching grip and made his voice louder, pitched to carry out to Chris who was taking a rather creative approach to getting his boots off, that from this distance seemed to involve a great deal of hopping about and cursing under his breath.  “Chris, I shall be there in a moment!”  Instead of walking down towards the pier, he gave Zach an unfathomable look, jerked his head towards Chris in case Zach was unfathomably stupid, then walked quietly back towards the house. 

Zach closed his mouth with a small snap. Frantically he stripped off the rest of his clothing, ruefully noticing that in his jealousy he had not even bothered to dress himself properly. No wonder he had startled the maid and his butler so much. Zach never went anywhere without being dressed implacably.  He ran down the steps on silent feet, stopping a few yards from Chris as he stood on the end of the pier, looking out at the moonlight reflecting on the water. His body seemed pained in silver, swirling with moonlight.

“Zach is not what you said he was.  And I do know he is using me, Karl. I’m not a fool.” Zach opened his mouth to respond, but what he was going to say drained away from him with Chris’ next words. “My title? Being a Viscount? It’s meaningless. A holdover from my father’s generation. Zach did not have to offer to help us, you know. And what he asked isn’t really all that uncommon; surely no different from any other arranged marri-“

Zach had stepped closer, bringing his naked body flush against Chris’s muscled back and buttocks, still covered in the breeches he wore. Zach’s arms encircled Chris, deliberately brushing over his nipples.

“ _ Karl _ ! Wh-What?”  Chris sounded scandalized. Zach’s eyes closed as his stomach clenched with jealousy again at hearing his husband saying someone else’s name. Zach knew he was being completely irrational, but could not seem to help it. He pressed his open mouth against the corded tension in Chris’s neck. He was completely unprepared for the way that Chris brought his foot sharply down, turning in Zach’s grip and elbowing him in the ribs with surprising strength. He pushed at Zach, and Zach stumbled back, eyes swimming with tears of pain.

It was almost worth seeing the comical look of shock on Chris’ face as he realized that he had just assaulted his husband, his eyes widening almost painfully wide, before Zach lost his balance completely, crashing into the water of the pond, still holding his ribs. He plunged down, his feet touching the sandy bottom before he pushed back up, a sound very much like a laugh leaving his throat as he surfaced.

He swam back a little, watching as Chris dove into the water, bobbing a little out of arm’s reach. He looked furious as he advanced on Zach, and he found himself swimming backwards a little more quickly, in an effort to keep more than an arm’s length between him and his furious husband. The water was deeper out here, although not by much.  Chris lunged at him in a move that Zach easily dodged. Zach knew that his slow laugh was doing nothing to calm down the situation, seemingly only infuriating Chris more.  Zach could not describe the feeling he felt at Chris’ reaction. He had been disgusted, seeking only to free himself from an unwanted embrace.  Zach did not know what he would have done if Chris had actually began to respond in his grip, while thinking he was Karl. Clearly whatever ‘secrets’ he and Karl shared, they were not of the flesh.

Chris lunged again, this time his hand skittering down Zach’s naked chest, brushing lightly against his cock, before Chris’ eyes widened again and he practically propelled himself away from his husband, his blush clear in the way his skin darkened in the moon’s light.  Zach snorted. “Coward,” he said, under his breath pitched just so that Chris could pretend not to hear if he so chose.

Chris did not so choose.

He dove under the water, leaving not even a trail of bubbles to mark where he swam.  Zach’s eyes widened, having forgotten the way that Chris had always been able to swim circles around him.  Zach frowned, staring at the water where he thought Chris might be. He jumped, bringing his arms down with a splash.

Nothing.

Beginning to worry- after all, how long could one hold their breath? - Zach called out, “Chris! I am sorry. It was a joke in poor taste.”

“It was. I thought Karl had lost what sense he had.” 

The clipped words came from behind him, and Zach whirled, realizing that he was now touching the bottom of the small pond, his toes digging into the murky sand with an unpleasant squish of sensation between his toes.  By the time he got all the way turned around, there was another phantom touch against his cock, sliding quickly away in the water as Chris swam away, taking advantage of Zach’s moment of shock to once again lose himself in the water and the night.  The moon slid behind a cloud, and Zach quickly decided that he was not going to give Chris another chance to mock him, deserved or not. He set off swimming towards the shore.

This time, he felt Chris’s hands bracing themselves on his thighs and Zach tensed, wiping water out of his face when Chris surfaced with a toss of his head. Chris’s hands seemed inordinately hot as they slid up his thighs, over his hips, and settling on his waist as he stood in front of Zach.  Zach couldn’t help the moan when he felt Chris’ somewhat skittish touch slide over the hollow in his hip, then gently touch him, wrapping his fingers around the hardening length.  “I have no interest in Karl in such a way.” Chris spoke softly, turning his wrist and sliding it from the root to the tip. Not to be outdone, Zach quickly pulled Chris to him, mirroring his movements.

The night was now so black that Zach couldn’t read anything in his husband’s face, but felt his own breathing speed up when he heard Chris’ breath leave his chest on a serrated sigh, floating out over the serene water. Zach moved his other hand so that he was running his fingers slightly over Chris’ balls, thrusting a little in Chris’ grip, which had tightened as Zach touched him.  Zach slid his hand down over the globes of Chris’ ass, pulling him possessively closer. “I do not like the thought of another man touching you.”

“Nuh-no- _ oh! _ -one ever …” His voice trailed away, his head coming forward to brace against Zach’s shoulder when Zach rubbed lightly between Chris’ cheeks. Chris winced a little as his thumb pressed against a particularly tender spot, and Zach was at once furious with himself.  He let go of Chris and forced himself to step back, keeping his hands fisted below the water. He was afraid that if he didn’t step back now, he would not ever do so.  The feelings of possessiveness, of jealousness, of regret and pure, white-hot want were so strong that Zach could not trust his body to act appropriately. “Why did you let me take you like that?”

Chris looked up at him, and Zach bit back a moan at the look on his face. His eyes had adjusted somewhat, but he suddenly wanted very much for the moon to come back out so that he could see clearly.  “I loved how you touched me, Zach. I was not going to deny you something that would bring you so much pleasure.”

Zach’s stomach gave such a funny little flutter at the word, ‘loved’ that he almost missed when Chris continued.  “I did not wish to give you cause to break our agreement. You … wanted me to be … yours, did you not?”  Zach’s eyes widened as Chris slid down under the water’s surface. He had only a split second to realize what Chris was doing, before he felt Chris’s grip on his cock change, and his mouth, the heat and humidity almost unbearable after the cool pond water, envelop him.  Zach’s legs almost gave out. Whatever Chris had said floated away as he struggled not to move, his shout sending the frogs and other night creatures into an uneasy silence. Chris’ movements were tentative, yet all the more enticing for knowing that Zach was the only one he’d ever done this with. Chris had fisted one hand tightly at the base, hanging on with his other hand to Zach’s hip, keeping himself under water. His mouth had sealed onto the head, tongue sliding around the ridge, sending Zach’s eyes fluttering shut as he began to suck harder, flicking his tongue faster. Zach’s hands were on his husband’s head wanting to press deeper into the hot mouth.

Chris came up for air about then, shyly kissing the center of Zach’s chest. Zach yanked him up by his arms, sliding his hand around the back of his head, lips crashing down onto his.  He wanted him, he wanted to own this man, to take everything from him and leave them both a shaking wreck on the ground.  Chris kissed him back and Zach grabbed his hips, moaning when their cocks slid against each other, startlingly hot in the cool water. Chris wrapped his legs around Zach’s waist and held onto his shoulders, kissing him back just as passionately. Zach wasted no time gripping his ass and walking as quickly as he could towards the shore, out of the mud and onto the small path, heading for the gazebo. His fingers teased the small pucker of skin again, lightly this time, sending shivers down Chris’ body. Zach grinned into the kiss, rubbing the fingertips of all his fingers in and around him, loving the way Chris moaned, unabashedly into the night.  Zach set him onto one of the cushioned benches, stretched out over him, and kissed him again.  Chris moved, pushing up on his hands so that he could change the way he was sprawled out on the settee. Zach moaned when Chris scratched him, sliding his fingers down the curve of his spine. He felt the tentative touch on his ass and thrust against Chris’s leg. Zach moved his hand, understanding that this would be over quite quickly if Chris kept teasing him like that. He wanted to indulge his husband’s curiosity with his body, but was on such a knife’s edge of his release that…

No. Best to move quickly. He pulled away and had to shut his eyes at the sight of Chris, spread out and panting below him, covered only in drops of water sliding down his body, shining in the moonlight. Chris’ eyes were closed, his lips swollen, mouth slightly open as he sucked in breath.  His nipples had hardened into tiny buds, and Zach couldn’t help bending down, licking and nibbling over his chest, following the slight tracks of water with his tongue.

“Oh, oh oh oh oh ohhh….” Chris bit his lip and Zach remembered how his husband had bit at his own wrist yesterday to muffle the sounds he made when Zach had tasted his cock for the first time.  Chris’ stomach jumped as Zach slid his tongue down his navel, sucking at the small indentation.  Chris moaned again, and Zach smiled as he licked the water off his lower stomach, tangling his tongue in the small thatch of hair there. He tugged a little with his lips, before he felt the tug on his hair as Chris pulled him back up towards his mouth. His eyes were shining in the faint light and ...

… he was beautiful. 

Chris tried to speak, his lips moving as he tugged again. Zach realized that Chris was mouthing his name, and moved back up his body, turning them so that he could grasp both of their cocks in his hand. Chris moaned again into his forearm.

“No. Let me hear you.” Zach’s whisper seemed loud as he shifted his grip, sliding his thumb over Chris’ slit, then his, mixing their precome together.

“I…” Chris shook his head, biting his lip again, arching his hips.

“It would please me. Chris.”  Zach’s whisper was directly in Chris’ ear. “Hearing you come apart for me would please me so very much. You said you wished to please me. Let me hear you.”

“Zach!” Chris buried his head in the crock of Zach’s neck and shoulder, as Zach moved his hand in such a way that he could not hold back his own breathy moan of satisfaction. He tilted his head, tugging at Chris’ earlobe with his teeth, and the small pain sent Chris’ body over the edge. Chris froze as his cock jerked in Zach's grip, the hot liquid sliding over Zach’s hand and wrist, dripping down onto his leg as he gripped himself and Chris a little tighter, following him only moments after, Chris clutching him tightly, keeping him from flying completely away.

* * *

This time dining together was full of significant stares and bright, furious blushes. Zach had not realized that watching Chris eat could in itself be such an enticing sight. It had only been an hour or so ago before the two of them had reluctantly separated with a long, sweet kiss. Zach could not force himself to be as cold as he wished to his husband. They had rinsed off in the water from the pond, swimming around like they children they had been, before the rumbling of Chris’ stomach had sent them laughing to dinner.  Zach could not help but chastise himself for acting that friendly, and then realized that his actions tonight would keep Chris off balance. He only had to resist the pull of Chris’ delectable body, keeping their bedplay in the bedroom.

Now, as he watched Chris try to cut his food with genteel, precise movements, Zach could not seem to keep his gaze off the bent head. _Those lips, his eyes, demurely downcast. God, those lips._ _The feel of his mouth._ Zach shook his head, clearing his throat.  Before he could speak, the butler entered the room with a white note in his gloved hand.  Zach held out his hand, automatically assuming that it was for him.

“With, all due respect sir, it is addressed to Mr. Pine. Ah. Quinto.”

Chris spoke, “Mr. Pine.” At the same moment Zach declared, “Mr. Quinto.”  They glared at each other over the table’s surface.  A bright burst of anger burned Zach’s blood as he remembered Chris’ haughty words from yesterday. Zach’s butler looked pained at his faux pas before dropping the missive into Chris’ open hand. Zach’s glare turned even more glacial as Chris broke open the seal, his face lighting up in complete delight at whatever he read.

“It’s Zoe! She wants to meet my new husband! Oh, Zach you’ll love her. Everyone does.” Chris broke off, staring at Zach nervously. “She said Karl stopped by with the ‘joyous news’ and waited while she wrote this for me.”

Zach tried to swallow the jealousy that hit him at Chris’ ecstatic ‘oh, Zach’. He was letting this man make a fool out of him. This had to stop. He resolutely forced his mind from the picture his husband made, practically bouncing in his seat from the note from his beloved sister.

“Is it… okay? If she visits here, I mean? She won’t be any trouble.”

Zach raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. When is she to arrive?”

Chris quickly scanned the rest of the letter. “A fortnight!” he moaned. “That’s too long.”

Zach’s mind whirled. A month was when he had planned… Well. A fortnight. He could accomplish quite a lot in that amount of time.  He quickly brought his napkin to his face, hiding his smirk. He could surely hold out that long. It would just be a matter of not allowing Chris’ beauty to entice him… a fortnight was hardly any time. He could easily accomplish such a task.

He just had to remember his plan; remember  _why_ he was doing this _._

Zach's chin jerked up slightly as he straightened his back and shoulders with resolve.  He  _would_ accomplish his plan, or die trying. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe is probably my favorite character in all of this. I had way too much fun. 
> 
> Also, The alternative title for this chapter was Stockholm Syndrome- a Love Story but I restrained myself. Barely.

Chris woke up, stretching in his bed, feeling each muscle give a little twang. He kicked his feet a little, pointing his toes and arching his back as his vertebrae popped. He turned, the pillow that Zach had used, still empty.  Chris's small sleepy smile faded as though being hit by a switch.  After Karl had left, and they had… swam… Zach’s whole demeanor had reverted once again back to the cold, furious man that had married him.

Chris did not know what he had done to earn such a reaction, and frankly was weary of trying to overcome Zach’s bad moods. Each of the nights since Chris had read Zoe’s letter had passed in the same way. Zach would show up at his door, stride to Chris's bed and proceed to, well. Here Chris was stumped, and frowned up at the ceiling as he thought.  It certainly wasn’t making love. Chris was quite certain that his husband was not in love with him. They didn’t just fuck, because technically there was nothing even close to what had happened that first night together. They rarely spoke of anything of importance. Their conversation had consisted of naught but ordered directives, and pleas for release. Zach had refused to allow Chris to taste him again, although he would, and did frequently indulge his own wish. They had participated together in what Chris learned what was called  _ frottage _ , and that was quite satisfactory. Chris enjoyed the feel of Zach’s body wrapped around him, it was the only closeness Zach would ever allow and Chris found himself craving it.

Zach would not allow them to kiss, not like they had in the gazebo after they had both enjoyed their release, slow, sweet kisses that made Chris's heart turn over in their chest for all their gentleness. Zach’s mouth was always possessive; exciting and masterful, true.  Chris really had no reason to complain. Zach would allow Chris to touch his cock, and stroke the skin on his thighs and stomach, but he wouldn’t let Chris touch him anywhere else.

It was damn frustrating. 

Chris craved Zach’s touch. He would find himself staring off into space at all times of the day, remembering how Zach had felt, how huge and hot and impossible as he had thrust inside, making space were there was none. He’d remember the sweet kisses in the gazebo, and the playful swimming after and have to shake his head, jarring himself out of such useless memories.

Every night, no matter how sated and exhausted Zach would seem, he would leave the bed almost immediately after completion. Three nights ago, Chris had thrown caution to the wind, hanging onto his shoulders and trying to keep him on the bed. “Please, Zach. Stay with me tonight,” he’d whispered in the dark room but Zach had simply removed Chris's arms and stepped back, his face carefully closed off, shaking his head. Chris had not seen him in those three nights, all the more long for his fantasies and useless wishing. Obviously Zach was getting what he needed from this deal of theirs. He had no interest in Chris's affection. 

Chris would do well to remember that.

Most unsatisfactory.  He sat up now, and stretched again. His gaze caught onto Zoe’s letter, and Chris's heart leapt. He had counted off the days until his sister would arrive, and knew that she would be here today- sometime around midmorning.  He threw back the covers and padded naked into the bath, indulging himself in the almost unbelievable luxury of the modern bathroom. He quickly attended to his grooming needs, dressing carefully.

He knew that Zach would not be joining him for his morning meal. Since that first day that he had disappeared after Chris had made such a fool out of himself by kissing Zach’s cheek of all things, he’d hardly seen the dratted man around the large house; finally understand after a pitying Lisbet told him that Zach took his horse into town to escape. Escape  _ him _ .

Bored out of his mind, Chris had taken to reading everything in Zach’s impressive library. Pathetic it might have been, but most days could find him curled up in Zach’s chair, wrapped in one of his jackets against the chill of the room, reading.  He was always careful to leave the room as undisturbed as when he entered it. 

Stupid, really.

Chris had explored the grounds, and seen that Anton was perfectly content at his new position.  Bruce had written once, careful to inquire whether or not Chris was being treated well.  Bruce had been under the impression that Zach must be holding him here by some sort of compulsion, and had cautioned Chris to be very careful, and not to trust him too easily. 

Seeing Chris's face pale as he read the letter, Zach had asked if he could read it, and Chris had watched his husband's face become even more closed off and careful. That night, Zach had not come to him, and Chris was ashamed to admit that he had curled into his own pillow after touching himself, shamefully calling out Zach’s name in the silent, lonely bedroom.  When he had tried to ask Zach why he had stayed away, Zach had refused to answer, saying only that he should not forget to respond to Bruce’s letter.

The only other communication he’d received was from Karl, who had written to tell him that he was going on an extended trip to see friends in Boston, and Chris missed him dreadfully. Chris was used to meeting people, to walking and gazing in the shops, buying what he wished, speaking to whomever he wished. Zach had told him that he was free to invite some of his friends to dine with them, but Chris found to his surprise that the people he had spent time with before were really just a means to an ends; alleviating his boredom. He really had no interest in anyone judging him, or his hasty marriage, his husband, or their perceived belief of what was going on in his life.

So, the fact that Zoe was coming today was rather a great relief.

His morning toilette finished, Chris clattered downstairs, coming face-to-face with his husband on the stairs. Chris stopped, shocked, the sight of him in full daylight somewhat unexpected.

“Lisbet reminds me that your sister is to arrive today. I thought that I would stay here, in order to properly greet her.”

Chris nodded, dumbly. His mouth dropped open when Zach offered him his arm.  Chris's gaze darted up to Zach’s, unsure. Zach’s face was just so hard for him to read.  Zach’s nostrils flared at Chris's hesitation, and his arm started to drop.  Chris acted quickly, taking a step forward and threading their arms together. “I am sorry, Zach. You just startled me. I am pleased that you will be staying home today.”

Zach gave him an unfathomable look Chris just smiled at him, unable to contain his happiness. Part of him, a tiny part that tried to be cautious, warned him of letting himself become too dependent on Zach for his happiness, but it was easily ignored, walking as he was down the stairs with the heat from his husband’s body causing Chris to wish it was night already.  “Do you really think of this house as your home?”

Chris was so startled that he stopped walking.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I know that marrying me was not… perhaps, ideal for you, but I am content here.”

Chris watched curiously as Zach swallowed, another look flitting over his features. He almost looked… guilty? Chris hastened to reassure him. “I know a good ‘wife’ is supposed to immediately go running amok and buy new things for the home, but frankly your taste and my taste seem to mesh beautifully. Although, I think it would be pleasing to find some of my mother’s things. She had some lovely antiques.” Chris wrinkled up his nose, a frown creasing his features. “Well, she  _ had _ . If my wastrel father didn’t gamble them all away.”

They began walking down the last few stairs.

“Your Lisbet has told me that you are keeping busy while I am away during the day. Something about accounts?”

Chris blushed. “Yes. Not much to do, really. Your home really runs itself. Mostly I spend the day reading or out riding.”

“ _ Our _ home.”

Chris stopped short, allowing Zach to precede him into the dining room. He could not have stopped the bright, ecstatic grin that split his face if he tried. “ _Our home_ ,” he whispered, elated. A small, cynical part of him wondered why Zach was being so… kind, on this day of all days, but he was more than willing to ignore that little voice for the way his heart was lifting, filling him with almost more joy than he could contain. He bit his lip, trying to arrange his features into something more stoic.

They both helped themselves to food, their coffee already poured and waiting by their respective newspapers. Chris was used to Zach’s ways by now. He would eat a very light breakfast, usually lightly buttered toast or a poached egg, while Chris preferred a large, filling meal. Lisbet smiled down at him as he began to tuck in, quickly reining in her grin at Zach’s mildly inquiring look. 

“He does seem to enjoy his food, does he not, Elizabeth?” 

Her look turned positively wicked. “Indeed, sir. Keeping this boy away from sweets has always been a trick. Why, his Mother was forever hiding the fairy cakes and chocolates from this one’s greedy fingers.”

“Hmm. I have never seen anyone with such an adoring appreciation of bacon. Perhaps that is why his rear end is so delightfully… round.”

Chris's mouth dropped open, his face flushing almost painfully red. It was only luck that kept any food from being in his mouth at the time.

Lisbet, the traitor, was no help either. She could not contain a snort of laughter, although she tried desperately to keep a straight face; her lips twitched as though she had palsy. “Ah, yes, sir. I’ve noticed it myself. Mischievous lad he was, always in my kitchen when he smelled the sugar. Many times I’ve had to tan that hide of his. O’course it’s been several years, mind you.”

“Hmm.” Zach took a sip of his coffee, eyes almost warm with laughter as he continued his teasing. “Spanking, you say? Well he’s yet to be that mischievous with me. But I shall keep that in mind, although I daresay he’d not mind too much were it myself doing the spanking.”

Lisbet could not contain her bawdy laugh and shuffled quickly out of the dining room, leaving a mortified Chris considering diving under the table. Chris stared at his plate, trying to get his reaction under control. There was a small clink of silverware, and Chris dared a look up to see Zach staring at him with one eyebrow raised, a slight smile on his lips.

“If you were spanking me, I daresay I’d enjoy it very much. After all, I’ve enjoyed everything else you’ve shown me.” 

Chris heard the quiet words leaving his mouth and had a moment of stunned shock that he’d _actually said them_ before Zach’s eyes turned quite dark, almost liquid with heat.  The fork hit the plate with a clatter and Zach was on him, his hand cupping the back of Chris's neck as he kissed him, almost feeding at his mouth as though he could not keep his hands off of him. Chris moaned, kissing back, wrapping his arms around Zach’s shoulders tightly, just trying to keep up with the kiss. Zach tasted faintly of tea, and Chris found their tongues sliding together in the most sensual way. It made his knees weak, and he wasn't even standing! He started to move, in order to stand, but Zach made a dark sound in the back of his throat and lifted him as though he weighed nothing. Chris's feet had barely hit the floor before Zach’s hands moved, cupping Chris's ass, pulling their bodies together with a sharp movement. Chris's breath left him on a moan when he felt how hard his husband was. Zach pulled away from the kiss with a gasp of air when Chris pressed the heel of his hand against him, unable to get his hand into the fastening of Zach's trousers.  Granted, he was still somewhat new at this, but Chris had always been a quick study.

“Well, I see that Karl wasn’t lying when he said that you were, indeed _quite_ happily married.”

Zach moved quickly, turning his body so that Chris's back was to the speaker, attempting to protect his modesty.  But Chris knew that voice.

“A few minutes later and I would have never been able to eat on this table, again Christopher. The last thing I ever wanted to see in my life was your bum in the air. I shall see you in a moment. You two look as though you need some time to ..er.. sort things out.” Chris, absolutely mortified, heard the suruss sound of his sister's skirts as she walked away. 

Fourteen or no, Zoe had absolutely no filter on what came out of her mouth.  Chris heard Zach make a sound and clutched his shoulders, worried for a moment that Zach was furious, but felt his husband's shoulders shaking in what could only be laughter.

“I find myself ready to _ 'sort things out,' _  yet find the thought impossible with your sister in the house. She’s…”

Chris took a step back, biting his lip and trying to calm his body’s reaction. “She’s a horrendous brat. But I love her.”

Zach stepped neatly aside, looking into a wall mirror, fixing his hair. He turned to Chris, who was nibbling on his lip, trying to guess at Zach’s reaction. Zach usually insisted that they be intimate behind closed doors. Truly Chris had never even entertained the thought of doing such things in the bright sun. But now? Being able to see each little bit of arousal on his husband's face? He bit his lip harder, trying to stifle a moan. Now of course, he could think of nothing else- which was hardly doing anything to calm his body. Chris made a discontented sound in the back of his throat and tried to adjust himself in his trousers. His eyes fluttered shut at his own touch and for a moment, he truly did not care that his sister was waiting for him in the parlor, or that servants were all around, quite likely within hearing distance.  

“Undo your trousers.”

Chris's eyes popped open in shock, for a moment certain that he could not possibly have heard what he just thought he’d heard. Zach was staring at him, flicking his gaze between the bulge tenting Chris's trousers, and the bright stain of red that Chris knew must be adorning his cheeks. “But…” Chris trailed off at the look on Zach’s face. His husband took a step forward, and Chris could not help but take a step back to compensate. He found the back of his knees hitting the dining room chair he'd recently vacated and he fell onto it with a grunt.

Zach was on him before he even fully landed. “If you do not undo yourself and let me see your cock you will be the one explaining to your sister why your clothes are ripped.”

Chris jumped, his hands already undoing the fastenings.  He was horribly aware of the open window, the sheer white curtains fluttering in the breeze. He was terrified to confirm whether or not Zoe had left the door open. He knew his gaze was wade-eyed as he stared at Zach, shocked beyond words. Zach moved to his normal spot at the head of the table and took a sip of his coffee, staring at Chris as he slowly shoved his trousers down his legs, undoing the drawstring of his smalls and hooking his fingers in the soft fabric.  Zach nodded and Chris quaked as he pulled the last bit of modesty from his body, arching up and squeezing his bottom so that he could slip everything off to his ankles.  He looked up at Zach who had put down the coffee cup and was watching Chris with one leg folded over the other, elbows resting on the armrests, fingers pointed under his chin as he stared.

Chris looked down at his cock, which clearly did not mind one whit for the situation it now found itself in, filling with blood and standing straight out from his body. Chris kind of cupped himself, as though offering it to Zach, and had the small victory of seeing Zach’s eyes shut as though he were in pain. The small movement gave Chris confidence. It was simple. Obviously, Zach took pleasure in his body, and Chris wanted do what he could to give Zach pleasure. He gripped himself, bracing his feet against the floor and thrusting into his tight fist. A small bit of liquid trickled over the webbed part of his hand, and Chris used it to make his grip a little more slick as he rubbed and pumped his fist, keeping his eyes on Zach’s face with an effort. He wanted to close his eyes, remembering how Zach felt on him, how he felt inside of him, and felt himself grow harder.

Chris took one wet fist and raised his fingers to his mouth, lapping at his own slick fingers. Zach made a sound, and was moving, falling to his knees in front of Chris and sucking him into his mouth, swallowing his cock so that Chris could feel each muscle in his throat tightening around the head. He was so close, so desperate for his release that it only took watching Zach bobbing over him a few times before Chris felt his balls tighten, and he arched up into Zach’s blissfully hot mouth, coming with a strangled cry. He could still feel Zach’s throat moving, swallowing his come and it was almost too much, too much sensation and he pushed Zach’s mouth off of him with a groan. Zach looked strangely vulnerable on his knees, his eyes almost black with lust. Chris bent to kiss him, tasting himself on Zach’s mouth.

Chris tugged, moving and standing up, drawing Zach to his feet. The kiss changed again, sweeter as Chris tried to show him what he was feeling, Zach seemingly dazed. Chris bumped his waist against Zach’s and felt his erection, felt how hot he was trapped behind the breeches he wore. He took advantage of Zach’s semi- dazed state, falling to his knees in front of his husband and attacking the fastenings on Zach’s clothes before he changed his mind.

Zach had not allowed this, had not even seemed to _want_ Chris's touch, and Chris had assumed that it was because he had not all that much practice at these matters, but he hardly resisted now as Chris rubbed his smooth cheek against him, trying to inhale the very scent of Zach’s flesh. He looked up once to see Zach’s hand come down to cup his cheek, before the other man closed his eyes tightly. Chris let out a quick exhale of breath and opened his mouth, just breathing on the head for a moment, hoping that he would not embarrass himself with the eager little sounds he couldn’t seem to cease making.

Zach’s hands tangled in his hair and Chris took the hint, opening his mouth and taking Zach inside. He could feel Zach’s legs tremble and felt all at once quite powerful as he felt Zach lose more and more control with each nibble, suck and lick of his mouth.  Remembering how brave he’d felt under water, where Zach couldn’t see his face seemed ridiculous now. Being able to see the beautiful man in front of him start to fall apart made Chris feel as though he could do anything.

“Oh. Ohhh, Chris…” the soft whisper made Chris feel like weeping. It was so needy, so full of emotion that Chris couldn’t even begin to decipher everything he heard in it. Zach sucked in a sharp breath and Chris felt his cock start to spurt, flooding his mouth with liquid. 

_ Eurgh.  _

_ Well,  _ everything  _ couldn’t be perfect. _

Chris couldn’t help making a face as he pulled off of Zach, kissing the wet head once before tucking him into his smalls, and pulling up his trousers for him.  Zach pulled him up to his feet again and Chris was dumbfounded to feel his husband's arms come around him, hugging their bodies together tightly for a moment, before turning and walking out of the door, leaving Chris to tuck everything back in and make himself presentable.

It took several minutes.

Lisbet's crispy, perfectly-cooked bacon shouldn't go to waste after all. 

Thankfully, he did not see Zoe until much later. She wasted no time in finding the stables and Chris shaded his eyes to see her and Anton taking the horses through their paces. She was fearless, having been around fine horseflesh all her life.  Chris felt Zach’s arm come around him as he stood on the fence and stiffened sharply.

It was the first time since their kiss that Zach had not touched him in frustration or anger. The causal slide of his arm was affectionate, and for moment Chris didn’t know what to do with his own arm feeling horribly gauche.  Eventually, he settled it around Zach’s waist, cautiously, as though Zach would pull away changing his mind at any moment.  Zach leaned towards him, his voice rough in his ear. “Perhaps it is best that we do not give your sister any reason to doubt our relationship.”

Chris found himself nodding shakily. Zach? Pretending casual affection?  What, did he actually expect him to say no? Part of him screamed at Chris that there was something wrong here; something that was _off_ in this whole thing, but Chris once again suppressed it, shyly smiling at Zach whose own lips parted in a little grin as they both turned to watch Zoe jump the last few jumps, swinging off the horse with a little flip of skirts.

Zoe’s color was high, her exotic beauty hiding nothing as she beamed at her brother and his husband. She held out her hands and Chris was finally able to make himself pull away from Zach, enfolding her in a strong embrace, her scent enveloping him as it always did with a feeling of absolute, helpless adoration and petrified responsibility. He would do anything for this beautiful young girl in his arms. Her arms came around him and she kissed his cheek.

“Chris! About time. I thought you two were going to never finish your...  _ breakfast _ !” She pulled away and turned to Zach, enveloping him in the same uncaring, unself-conscious hug. “I suppose it is important for newlyweds to keep up with good nutrition,” she said, a wicked glint in her eye. Zach’s mouth dropped open for a moment, no doubt imagining Chris's sister to be the shy, demure, sweet young things that he usually came into contact with.

Zach was in for one hell of a rude shock.

“Ah. Yes, well. Nutrition is key,” He coughed. “Clearly.”

Zoe, who had never met a stranger, pulled them both to her so that she took an arm of each, and turned to walk in beautifully landscaped gardens. “This really is beautiful here. Remember Chris? How mother would go out in the garden for ages and ages, coming back with dirt under her nails and her cheeks pink from the sun? It used to make father furious.”

Chris snorted. “Everything made father furious.”

Zoe laughed. “Well, I didn’t! You should have just been as sweet as my charming self, and you and he would never have fallen out with one another. Zach, did my brother ever tell you about their fights? No? Well one time..”

But Chris slid his hand over his sister’s wayward mouth with a little shake of his head. “Let’s not bore him with all that, shall we dearest? Tell me about school.”

And Zoe was off again, chattering away a mile a minute. Zach met his amused gaze over the top of her head a few times as she propelled them through the paths, stopping to sigh over particularly pretty flowers, or hedges, or brightly-plumed birds that caught her attention.  She was bored at school, frustrated that the place did not allow women to learn any of the interesting sciences or natural history that so captured Zoe’s imagination.

“I am quite at a loss. I do not know if other schools offer those subjects to young women, but I assure you that you may attend any school that you wish, Zoe. It would be my pleasure to send you books to read, and we could converse through letters should you have any questions.”

Zoe squealed and hugged Zach, standing on her tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “Oh, Mr. Quinto! You’re just as I imagined you would be. I can see why my brother is in love with you! I thought that you would be quite fierce, but I find you absolutely divine.”

Chris thought his heart had stopped.

He forgot to breathe when laughing; Zach opened his mouth further to ask her a question. “I quite doubt that your brother is in love with me. But we are fond of each other. And I cannot tell you how pleased that I meet with your approval. I assure you that I find you just as delightful.”

_ Quite fond of each other. _

Zoe beamed at him, attention caught by a small furry creature scampering across the path. She hiked up her skirts and followed it into the grass, uncaring that she was giving the two men a view of her petticoats as she bent over to look for it.

Chris looked after her, feeling Zach’s eyes on him.  _ Quite fond.  _ His heart fairly shuddered in his chest. He found himself sweating and both cursed and blessed his thrice damned sister’s huge mouth for her guileless comment.  Resolutely, he refused to meet Zach’s gaze, certain of what the other man would see there.  -- _ of each other. Quite. Fond. _

“Oh, damn! I scared it off. Did you see it, Chris? A perfectly lovely little rabbit!” Zoe stood up, shaking out her skirts and assuming her place between the two men. “And yes. You’re the only Zach I know, although I feel like I know you perfectly already. I remember when Chris was youn…”

“Zoe! Did you say something about wanting to perform this week?”  Chris interrupted. The key with Zoe was distraction. He’d learned this early in his life.

“Oh. Oh yes! I can’t believe I’ll only be here a week. But that dreadful Cynthia is always boasting about her family allowing her to sing at their weekly musicale. Why, I have no idea. She sounds like a frog being propelled from a choleric duck’s tight ass.”

Chris blinked, appalled at the visual for a moment.  Zach made a strangled sound and quickly turned, seemingly inspecting the bark of a tree as though he had never seen it before. His shoulders shook, and small gasping sounds could be heard.

“Ah. Well, we wouldn’t want to invite dreadful Cynthia then. Did you wish to sing? Or play?”

Zoe bent down and began fashioning a daisy chain, twisting the fragile stems together as though it was the easiest thing ever.  “Oh Chris, you know I can’t do either. I’m a passable dancer, a fact you’d actually know if you’d allow me to actually go to a ball.”

“Not a chance. Sixteen, Zoe.” Chris sighed. It was a familiar argument. “Not before, love. Trust me.”

Zoe opened her mouth, perhaps to respond rather shrilly if the look on her face was any indication, but before she could, Zach returned and spoke up. “If it pleases you, there is a small soirée three nights hence. He lowered his voice conspiratorially, as though Chris couldn’t clearly hear him. “There shall be dancing. I swear it.”

Zoe squealed again, jumping up and hugging Zach quite tightly.

“Oh, please Chris? I can go, can I not? Please?”  Chris, who had built up immunity to his sister’s shamelessly pleading eyes by the time she was six, started to open his mouth to refuse, when Zach spoke over him.

“It would please me to show you both off.” His voice was soft, but his eyes were for Chris, who swallowed and blushed. He could not seem to move for a moment; Zach’s words filling him with such warmth that he was surprised that he did not melt in that very spot. 

_ Quite fond of each other. _

“Oh,  _ gross _ . Just kiss him already, Zach. Even  _ I  _ can tell that he wants you to!”  Zoe rolled her eyes and turned her back.

Zach’s lips quirked a little and Chris felt the soft brush of his lips on his own. “Indeed.”

Chris had to look away when Zach grabbed his hand, pulling him along in Zoe’s wake as they walked back to the house, afraid that his own confused feelings would be plain for the other man to read.

The next two nights passed in a blur of laughter, long walks, and picnics spent in the gazebo. Chris had honestly never been so happy in his life. His sister was her usual adorable, unspoiled self, and Zach’s laughter was often heard ringing out over the field, or filling the parlor, or the kitchen or the library- where ever they found themselves.

The first night that Zoe had arrived, Zach had indeed come to him in the night, only tell him that he did not feel right about being intimate under the same roof as his young, easily impressionable sister. Chris thought that a load of pigswill, given that Zach hadn’t seemed to mind ‘being intimate’ in the dining room together with the door and the windows open for anyone to walk by.  Still, Zach had been resolute and Chris found a hitherto unknown aversion to sleeping. Midnight found him pacing around the bedroom, alternately swearing and muttering under his breath. All the little sweet, caring touches they shared all day- for the last few days!- had the unfortunate result of causing Chris to remember every single time Zach had touched him. 

Damnit! Why would Zach not make love to him properly? What had he done? Was there something that Chris had done wrong? Was Zach worried about hurting him? It was frustrating beyond belief! Chris heard a soft knock on his door and his heart leapt into his chest. He whirled, throwing open the door with a grin, only to squeak and clutch his robe around him as he came face to face with his sister, instead of his husband.

“Oh, hi.”

“Why does Zach not sleep with you?” She knocked Chris aside with her shoulder and barged into the large bedroom, peering around as though she expected Zach to come sheepishly out of hiding at any moment.

Chris clicked his tongue and shut the door, a tad more forcefully than he intended.

“That is none of your business! Why are you even awake, anyway?”

“Oh, Chris. Here. I brought these. Don’t be cross.” She tossed a small tin at him, and Chris had to smile at the chocolate cookies that were inside. He took one and nibbled on it, closing his eyes in bliss as the flavors burst on his tongue. She clambered up onto his bed and sat cross-legged, her childish white nightgown fluttering around her legs in a white puddle, shockingly bright against the dark duvet. “Why?”

Her simple question caused him to throw up the hand not munching on the cookie. He continued his pacing; wracking his brain for what on earth he could have done to displease his husband so.

“I do not know, pet.”

“And why would you not allow me to tell him that you love him? You’ve loved him ever since I was very small! I was little, but I remember how furious father was at you, how much you two fought after that.”

Chris sighed. So much for his distraction techniques. “I know, Zoe.”

She made a disgusted sound. “So why don’t you just go find where he sleeps? Or just seduce him or something? It cannot be that hard!”

Chris discovered that one cannot gape in horror and inhale a chocolate cookie at the same time. He gasped, choked, and coughed up the piece of sweet. “For the love of  _ Christ _ , Zoe! Can you not act like you’re fourteen? Please? For my own heart if naught else? Seduction, really? Seduce him?  _ It can’t be that hard _ ,” Chris mocked in a high falsetto.

His sister glared at him, throwing a pillow in his general direction. She slid off the bed and stomped over to the door, throwing her hair over her shoulder. She whirled, her small features tight with emotion. “You once told me that you would do anything, brave any humiliation to marry the one that you love. You said that you wished the same for me, and would not even think about forcing me to marry some old toad with scabs of money.  _ You _ told me that love was important, Chris. If you truly believed that, then it seemed as though you would do anything to have it!”  She flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Chris exhaled, slowly.

Out of the mouths of babes.

Chris belted his robe more firmly and cracked open his door. He felt like someone was going to jump out at him, yelling “A-ha!” at his temerity, but he reckoned that this was his house too, damn it. Zach had said so. He didn’t need to ask permission to go downstairs in his very own house. Chris squared his shoulders, only to practically duck under the banister when he saw the butler, Alfred, locking up for the evening, moving downstairs with only a candle to light his way. Chris made his careful way down the steps, sliding into Zach’s study without a sound. It was dark, the fire banked. Empty. Chris frowned, and continued his search, looking in every room in the house.

He even searched the back areas, where the servants slept. No luck.

Chris unlocked the front door and stepped out into the night, looking immediately over to the gazebo, squinting as though he would be able to see Zach out there, in the distance, perhaps smoking.

No one.

Chris shivered, briefly wondering if he should go back upstairs to get some shoes on his frozen feet. The temperature had dropped; autumn was on the air. He was just going to the stables. Chris gasped when the frigid floor hit his feet, and he ran down the path to the stables, checking to see if all the horses were accounted for. He saw Anton reading in his loft, and stopped short.

“Hullo, sir,” Anton’s shy voice made Chris realize that he’d not been out here overly much in the time he’d lived here.

“Hello, Anton. I’m sorry to disturb you, but can you tell me if Zach took one of the horses on a ride somewhere?”

“Ah, yes. Sir. He did. Several hours ago. I believe he was going into ...er... his club.”

His club? This late? Chris felt like an idiot. “Oh. Of course. Thank you, Anton.”

He shivered again as he walked back up to the house, feeling bereft. His arms crossed in front of him, and Chris let himself into the house, wiping his feet as best as he could, an uncomfortable chill creeping up his spine. He felt horrendously cold.  He walked into Zach’s study, curled up in his jacket. His mind was racing with confusion. Why would Zach be at his club this late? He had been at dinner. It made no sense. Chris frowned up at the ceiling, his mind offering reason after unpleasing reason. Eventually though, he fell asleep on Zach’s couch.

Much later, he dreamt of sweet kisses on his forehead, sleepy, slow kisses that tasted like brandy, tongues tangling together, breath shared as his mouth was taken. The feeling of being weightless, yet so perfectly warm. A warm body holding his in the night, legs tangled in his.

 

But when he awoke, he was alone.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris has a surprise for Zach....
> 
> and Zach has a surprise for Chris.
> 
> Everyone loves surprises, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mind the tags

Zach awoke with a crick in his neck. His gaze was caught by a small bit of mud on the carpet, and Zach frowned, staring at it, but seeing in his mind’s eye Chris, curled up in his jacket on this very couch, fast asleep. Zach had carried him up to their bed and had been unable to resist the sleepy pull of Chris's body, wrapping himself around him and allowing himself some small snatches of sleep, before waking and going downstairs to his study.

He stretched and yawned.  Lightning flashed, and Zach jumped a little at the boom of following thunder. It matched his mood perfectly. Part of him wanted to go back to sleep. Most of him wanted to crawl up the stairs and steal into bed with his husband, who would curl around him to warm his body with the sweet intimacy he was beginning to crave before falling back to sleep.

He was so fucking confused.

Zach was honest enough with himself to admit that these last few days with Chris had been almost perfect.  Idyllic. It had been heart-wrenchingly difficult to resist the picture Chris made each night, fresh from his bath and waiting for him in bed. Turning away from his beautiful husband, from the slightly naughty entreaty in his eyes was horrendous.  Especially when Zach wished nothing more than to sink into that welcome, sweet heat.  But… that would have… It would be too easy to… to forget.

The past few days had been filled with laughter. The two of them had joked around, usually with Zoe instigating the teasing. Zoe. That had been another unexpected surprise. Zach had been expecting a shy debutante, not a spitfire of a teenager with a mouth like a drunken sailor.

She was a  _ delight _ .

And Chris with her was a delight to watch. They loved each other so much, so without reserve that Zach couldn’t even be jealous. Instead, he felt honored that he was included with them, as though he belonged.

But he didn’t.

Tonight was the night.

The accumulation of everything.

All his plotting and planning would come to fruition. Tonight, Zach would get everything he’d dreamed of since he’d sunk to his knees on that filthy sidewalk so long ago, staring at the rubble of everything he loved.

It should not _matter_ that Zach found himself effortlessly sliding his hand with Chris's, tangling their fingers together as they walked around Zach’s vast property with Zoe, exploring everything. Much of it Zach had never found the time to see, and seeing it for the first time with Chris and Zoe made it even more special. Many times he found himself looking down at their joined hands with a mild sense of surprise, having connected them without conscious thought. But it did. It had to matter.

It should not _matter_ that Zach was finding it almost impossible to say no to Chris, to ignore his own body’s demands that he join with Chris again. He could see that Chris found him attractive, found him amusing and intelligent. He could see that, and used it. It should not matter… but it did. Using Chris… it was the most instrumental thing that he had to accomplish. Vital. When he thought too carefully about how easy Chris was to manipulate…

He had no choice!

Zach stood, walking to a small drawer he kept locked in his desk. He pulled out the small gold frame and touched the picture there. His mother, beautiful, but tired around the eyes. Proud and unsmiling into the camera, a tiny quirk playing about her lips, as though the photographer had just amused her.  Zach found his fingers trembling as he put the photo down and was ashamed at his weakness.

Just a few hours.

* * *

 

Chris would not look Zach in the eyes. His blush made the blue orbs even more shockingly blue, and Zach found that he absolutely could not look away. Even Zoe, chattering on in excitement could not distract him. The carriage rocked, taking them the two miles to the Henderson Estate. It was close to twilight now, the lamps on the carriage continually casting the passenger’s face in harsh light. Occasionally lightning would flicker. It had rained most of the day, and the temperature had grown quite unseasonably chilly. The rain seemed endless, sheeting everything around them in grey.

“Do you think I will get to meet Katherine? Hm,  Zach? She sings so beautifully that I cannot believe I am to meet her! However did you manage it?”

Zach watched as Chris shifted slightly in his seat. Chris licked his lips, still keeping his gaze on his gloved hands. Zach’s eyes narrowed. Chris looked as though he were trying to keep a secret. 

“Hmm? Oh. She is an old friend of mine.  Normally, she only performs for small, intimate gatherings such as the one tonight. But, I wrote to her when I heard that you were coming, and naturally she wanted to meet you.”

Zoe squealed. She flung one arm over her forehead and fluttered the other hand over her chest as though fanning herself.  “No one will ever believe it! Do you think I can actually talk to her, Zach? Please? Even for a moment? Oh blast. I don’t know what I’d say!”

“Somehow, pet, I doubt that you would ever struggle with words.” Chris's dry tone made the amusement shining in his eyes a lie.

Zoe smacked her brother’s arm. “Oh hush. I must know _exactly_ what to say. I shan’t like it if she were to think I was a complete and utter bore.” She plucked at a ribbon on her valise the corners of her mouth turning down in worry. “Zach! You must tell me how you know her. Were you her paramour? Her patron?”

Zach choked.  “Par---“ he bit his lip, hard, desperate not to laugh in Zoe’s earnest  face.  She was so desperately worried. He cleared his throat again, looking into Chris's amused eyes over Zoe’s head. “No. Ah, not my paramour. Patron, yes. I knew her a long time ago.”

“Ohh. Was she your lover?”

“My cook.”

Zach ignored the snort from Chris's side of the carriage.

“Oh, is  _ that _ what they’re calling it now?” Chris's voice seemed deeper, sending shivers down Zach’s spine. His fingers itched to touch him. 

Impossible.

“She was a cook?” Zoe’s voice brought Zach back to reality. He actually had to shake his head to refocus; trying to shake the feeling of Chris's voice from his body.

“Somewhat. I wouldn’t say she was a particularly effective cook, but she did get the job done. I owned a small apartment downtown, and she lived below me. I would pay her to cook for me, and in return I helped her to invest her wages, then financed her coming out into the theater.”

Zoe cocked her head, confused. “An apartment? You lived in an apartment?”

Zach smiled. “Where else would you have me living?”

“Well, it’s just that you went to school with Chris. It seems that you would own a home downtown or your family might or some such thing.”

Zach’s eyes narrowed, her innocent words sending a shaft of pure rage through him.  “Chris told you that we were in school together?” His voice was a whisper. Oblivious, Zoe continued fussing with her valise.  

“Hmm?”

“—Zoe, perhaps you—“

Zach looked up at Chris, and whatever was in Zach’s face sent the blood leaving Chris's face.  “Zoe?”

Zoe looked up, grinning. “Oh! Do you think that I could tell her about my experiments? Does she enjoy the sciences? I can’t imagine that we will be conversing overly much. Perhaps she, too has read Tyndall’s latest papers? Chris? Do you think…? Chris? Whatever is the matter? You look dreadful!” Zoe peered up at her brother.  Chris cut his gaze to Zach’s, flicking back to his sister who still seemed to be oblivious to Zach’s dark mood.  The idea that Chris would even mention him, would find their faux friendship so trivial that it was something to laugh over with his younger  _ sister _ …

They pulled up at the doorway of the large estate. In his fury, Zach had not noticed that they had arrived at their destination. Zoe, so excited that she could barely sit still, sprung forward, only to squeak and sit quickly back down, looking with dismay at the way the beading on her valise exploded off its twine, sending beads scattering around the floor of the carriage.  “Oh  _ damn _ !” Zoe’s voice broke on the last word. 

“No problem, dearest. We can restring them.”  Chris bent to begin to pick up some of the tiny crystal beads, and his breeches stretched, outlining the curve of his ass so sweetly that Zach found himself actually having to clench his fists together to keep them off of him, so sudden and sharp was his want and his anger.  He gritted his teeth, and when he spoke, his purposefully calm whisper caused both siblings to freeze. “Christopher.  Please go inside and procure our programs and sitting arrangements.  I will assist Zoe.”  His only desire was to remove Chris from his presence; desperate for some time to get his emotions into some sort of order.  Helping Zoe was definitely the lesser of the two evils. Perhaps he could finally get an answer to his bloody questions.

“I do not mind helping.”

Zach forced a smile, knowing that it didn’t reach his eyes. Chris's own gaze seemed to darken as he visibly seemed to shrink in on himself. “Really. Perhaps it is better if you go on in.”

Chris nodded mutely, opened his mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it, before shutting his mouth with a little pop and hopping nimbly out of the carriage, the sound of the rain seeming quite loud as the door briefly opened.  Zoe shivered when the cool wind gusted inside the small, overwarm space.

“You never answered my query.”

Zoe picked up two pearls and looked up at him, raising an elegant eyebrow. For one moment, Zach saw the woman she would be in the girlish face before him, and his breath caught before he remembered that after tonight she quite likely would never speak to him again, as fiercely protective of her brother as she was.  

“Chris spoke of me to you?”

“Not to me, exactly. Our mother.” She bent to pick up something that Zach didn’t know the name of, but the small bit of frippery reflected the faint light like diamonds on fire.

“I do not understand.”

“Oh. Well, that was when Chris and Father first began to … well, to fight. Horrible, screaming fights. Mother would take me away for most of them, of course. But I would always find Chris and bring him ice and sneak some laudanum from father’s study and take it to him so that Chris could sleep.” Her voice was sad, almost throbbing with remembered pain for her beloved brother.

“Your father… _struck him_?” Zach felt as though he’d been hit in the stomach. He was perfectly conscious of each and every time he had grabbed Chris, each memory slamming into him as though he were flipping through photographs, sharply defined in an album.

“They always tried to hide everything from me. It was so _frustrating_. Father had no reason to really even notice that I was alive, really. Chris was the heir. You would think that wouldn’t matter in this day and age, but … well. I was always grateful that I was never a boy. When father found Chris's letter and found out that Mother had agreed to let you stay for that Christmas, Chris was not even able to go to Church that week. He had so very many bruises. Even Lisbet couldn’t find a poultice to draw out their sting.  Oh, Father was so furious.  He’d call Chris into his study. Poor Chris loathed going into Father’s study.  He hated that room with a passion. Mother would take me away when I tried to listen at the door. So much screaming. It was worse though, when there was no noise.  Father would call him such horrible names.  I didn’t even know what a catamite, or a pervert was!”

Zoe stopped suddenly and Zach found himself blinking at her as though waking up from a dream.  Laudanum? Christmas?  _ Catamite _ ? Like the beads that had scattered from Zoe's valise, Zach's brain could not seem to string the words together to make sense.

“Why do you not know this?” Zoe’s gaze turned shrewd.  “Chris never told you why he and father never spoke?” 

Zach shook his head. He absentmindedly opened the carriage door, helping Zoe out. She had found the rest of her beads and put them in her bag. She clutched it now, staring up at Zach as though she had never seen him before.  Zach could see several emotions fly across her face: confusion, disgust, anger and a terrible sort of sadness as she refocused on his face, blinking up at him as rain drizzled around them from the overcast evening. They nodded to the people that passed them, people whose carriages had had to park further away as they bustled up the walkway to the estate’s front entryway.

“It is one of the reasons I was so very happy when Mr. Urban told me that you found each other again.”

“What was? Chris… no. No, he never told me this. Any of this.”

“I am not surprised. He does not like to speak of Father. Chris never likes to see the dark in people. He has always had to push out anything unpleasant, and focus on the good. Perhaps that is why he always seems to see the good in people before anyone else. Surely you’ve noticed this, of course!” Now she sounded slightly exasperated, as though she could not conceive of Zach’s stupidity.

Zach had the inking of a thought, of a thought so terrible that it caused his very heart to stutter in its chest. But that was impossible. He was conscious of the cold sweat that broke out on his body, evident even in the rain.  They entered the house and the blast of heat and light from the candles was almost painful. Ignoring the greetings tossed his way, Zach drew Zoe into an out of the way alcove, determined to know the answers to the questions he feared to ask.

Zoe was staring at him with a strange sort of comprehension on her face. “Why does this distress you so?” She cocked her head again, as though she were expecting a certain answer.  Zach just stared at her helplessly. The rage that had made his stomach boil with fury only moments ago now choked him as it centered in his throat. “There was nothing you could have done.  Father would not have allowed you to visit.  Besides, you had nothing to do with the real reason Chris despised our father. “

“The… real reason?”

Zoe looked towards the house. “I’m sure Chris is waiting for us. Should we not be going? I don’t want to miss any of her performance!”

“They will not begin until I arrive. Please, Zoe.  I must know.”

She looked curious again, dark shadows flickering behind her eyes.  “Why? Why must you know?”

Zach could not speak.

“Do you love my brother, Zach?”

Zach’s eyes widened, the ball of emotion in his throat all but strangling him. He could not look her in the eyes. Zoe stared back, her eyes narrowed, as though thinking something over.  Zach wanted to say something. Desperately, he had the sudden urge to tell her the correct answer, the one thing that would make her care for him even partially as much as she cared for her brother.

“Chris. He… he never had all the cold-bloodedness that Father tried to beat into him. I wasn’t old enough to understand this at the time, but Mother wanted to make sure that I understood my brother; understood _why_ he was so very loyal. Quite stupidly, I had assumed that everyone I met was like Christopher, and she sought to keep me from harming myself, or from people taking an unfair advantage of me once I began my schooling. Father had a horrible sense of business. It... shames me to say this. And you must never speak of it.” Her gloved hand tightened on Zach’s arm, her voice a desperate whisper.

“I will not.”

Zoe bit her lip, looking again towards the rooms filled with well-dressed people. Her gaze became unfocused for a moment as she stared off into space. When she spoke, it was with such a soft whisper, that Zach found himself leaning in more closely to hear.

“Chris came into my nursery one day, absolutely sick with fury. He had vomited, and I remember the sharp smell seemed to float around him.  He was raving. So furious, and disgusted and just… sick. He kept crying that he couldn’t believe that anyone could be so cold, or so heartless.  I didn’t understand, of course. I was quite small at the time.” She frowned, looking off into the distance again.

Zach tried to swallow, and found that he couldn’t. He was certain, absolutely, positively certain that whatever she was about to say would cause his heart to simply stop. 

Or break.

“Chris had found out that father had been investing in real estate. There had been an accident; a terrible, horrendous accident that had caused several of the buildings our family owned to burn down. So many people perished in the fire.  Chris found out that father was more upset about the loss of rent than the loss of life. After that he put most of his personal wealth- he had several inheritances from our Grandparents- into rebuilding the homes, into providing assistance for the families that had lived there… everything really. He spent a good bit of his inheritance, even selling off items for money. Chris's money, mind you, not our family's.  Father had been beyond infuriated.  Mother and I just hid in the armoire, listening to...” She trailed off for a movement, her eyes wet with tears.  “Father had broken Chris's arm and one of the bones in his hand. Father refused to call a doctor. I think it was Mr. Greenwood who eventually had them rebroken and set properly.  Chris had been so ashamed of Father, of his own _name_ , that he began to speak to politicians, influential people who had the power to punish people who took—Zach?  _ Zach _ ?”

Zach’s legs were trembling with such force that he had to brace himself against the wall of the alcove with one hand. His vision seemed grey around the edges.  It did not seem possible. No, it  _ could not. _ It could not be true!

Zoe’s small hand seemed very cold on his shoulder. 

“if you wish, you may go on in and find your brother. I just need a moment, Zoe.” He smiled a ghastly smile and she took a step back.

“Do you wish.. Zach? Are you well? Truly, I can go and get someone for you. I’ll find Chris!”

_ No! _

“No… I will be fine. Really, I shall catch up with you in a moment. “

“Is there a problem here? Zoe? Mr. Quinto?” The smooth, slightly accented voice of Karl Urban caused Zach to close his eyes with a sick sort of pain. Zoe on the other hand was almost gleeful as she greeted Chris's friend. “Mr. Urban! What a lovely surprise! I was just about to go in. Perhaps, you could assist me?”  The somewhat gawky teenage girl disappeared in a moment, leaving the coquettish, refined young woman in its wake. Karl had to blink a moment, before giving Zach a troubled look.

Zach waved them on, desperate to be alone. Zoe wasted no time, wrapping her arms in Karl’s and leading the man towards the doorway, already speaking a mile a minute. Zach felt his heart squeeze in his chest, and a panic began to steal over him.  He must not… This must not be allowed! Feverishly, he checked his pocket watch and found himself darting around the back of the house, entering through the servant’s entrance.  

There was still time. He could stop this. He must be able to stop this!

A hand on his arm pulled him up short, and cursing he jerked his arm out of their grasp.

“Zachary! Oh, there you are my dear. I had wondered if you had given up on me!”

_ Oh, no. No! _ This was terrible.  Zach felt ill. He turned and grasped Katherine’s arms. “You have not started the performance yet, have you?”

“Of course not! I remember your instructions very well. I’ll do nothing unless I see you give me a signal.”

“Yes! That’s it. No… I mean.” Zach took a deep breath. His friend began to look alarmed at his vehemence. “I do not want…”

“Zach?”

Zach actually shut his eyes for a moment in pain.  He could feel his face paling.

Chris's hand was tentative as he reached for Zach’s hand. Zach felt disgusted with himself at causing the tentativeness. Knowing what he now knew…. _god_!  He opened his mouth to speak to Katherine, but she had turned away, her admirers jealously demanding her attention.

She gave him a smile and a wink and disappeared into the audience.

Zach found that he simply could not meet Chris's eyes. The guilt he felt ate at him like some ravening beast, starved for any sort of sustenance  He could not even _begin_ to accurately describe what he was feeling at the moment. Chris's fingers tightened on his and Zach felt as though his heart were fracturing.  They didn’t speak. Chris grabbed a passing waiter and gave Zach some champagne. He was grateful for the small distraction. His mind was blissfully blank, stuttering on the mistakes he had made. Only the purest chance had allowed Zach to stop the entire fucking...

“Zach?” Chris's warm fingers slid over his frozen ones. “Are you well?”  Zach found himself clutching at Chris's hand, his eyes beginning to burn. He drew his hands back and cleared his throat.  

“I am. Shall we take our seats?”

Chris nodded and Zach saw the look on his face turn positively mischievous. “I have a surprise for you.”

Zach saw Zoe and Karl move down the throng of people, and he stood there, finishing off his champagne with a toss of his head. Chris turned an absolutely mortified shade of red when the two of them walked up behind he and Zach.

“I love surprises!” Zoe’s bright voice was at war with her concerned gaze that flicked from Zach and back to her brother.  Karl also looked from Zach and back to Chris, his gaze narrowing slightly.

Zach spoke. “Zoe, I had originally arranged for you and Chris to sit towards the front of the room, near where Katherine will be singing.  However, if you wish it, perhaps Mr. Urban could accompany you instead?” Zach watched as Chris blinked in stunned surprise, not bothering to hide his happiness at being in Zach’s company. Even seeing that caused Zach to feel ill, his stomach churning with guilt.

“Oh, Zach!” Zoe flung her arms around him, joyous and beaming to everyone who looked over to them. “Thank you so very much!”

“It is nothing.” It wasn’t. In actuality, for his plan to work, he had arranged for both he and Chris to sit near the stage. This would ensure that... well. No mishaps would take place. 

“I.. ah. Well, I think it is time to take our seats, everyone!”

Zach was almost too numb to appreciate how quickly his husband blurted this out. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his face. “Yes. Let’s go sit down, shall we? Why must it be so blasted warm at these things?”

The music room had several chairs set up around the piano. Katherine would be singing for an hour, with a small break for a very light dinner, then the rest of the evening would be spent in mingling. Zach nodded to several of his business acquaintances. Chris didn’t seem to want to talk to anyone, instead walking closely to Zach and keeping his head down.  

Zach sat with a feeling of relief. He could not… it was too much to comprehend. He could not understand how Chris could have been a part of such a cruel boyhood stunt, yet still had wanted to invite him to the Pines’ estate for the holidays just…

“Zach!”

Zach became aware of two things, almost simultaneously. One, Chris had leaned extremely close to his ear, and the syllable, hissed as it was, was painted against his lobe with the slightest brush of Chris's beautiful lips. Two, as Chris spoke, his hand had come to rest on Zach’s thigh, gripping and kneading the muscle there.  Zach felt his whole body, starved for the touch of Chris, freeze, each muscle tensing in anticipation.

“Do you want to hear my secret?” Chris almost sounded, naughty. Certainly delighted with himself. 

Zach nodded, his throat dry, hyper-aware of Chris's long fingers shifting up, almost imperceptibly on his thigh.  He shuddered when Chris began to whisper, his lips barely ghosting over the whorls in his ear, the light puffs of his breath causing Zach’s body to begin to respond to his husband’s attentiveness.

“I wanted to do this in the carriage, but you were so adamant that I go on into the house. It is your own fault for giving me all that extra time to … prepare.”  Chris took a small breath and Zach swallowed hard, the low voice keeping him frozen on the spot.

“I want you so badly, Zach. I want you inside me so much I touch myself at night and dream of it when I awake, hard and throbbing for you.  I am afraid I have done something quite shameless….” 

Chris trailed off, and Zach could hear the nervousness behind his bold words, the slight quaver in Chris's voice causing Zach to lick his lips, cock hardening where he sat.

“Yes?” Zach’s whisper was drawn out in a hiss as Chris moved his hand, cupping Zach's cock as soon as the lights were lowered for the performance.

“I sat in that carriage with you and I could not sit still. I… found that vial of liquid you used on me that first night. I held it in my pocket for days, hoping that you would want me again, but you refused Zach. You kept leaving me and I decided that I. I-I- should take what I wanted.”

There was a burst of thunderous applause, and Zach jumped in his chair, causing Chris to chuckle. The low sound caused heat to pool in his belly and he thrust up a little into Chris's hand.  Katherine started to sing.

Zach hardly noticed.

“Zach.” He drew out the sound into two syllables, breathing in between.  _ Zaaaa aaach _ . “I took that oil and I used it. I stretched myself open and wanted, oh god I wanted it to be you so badly.”

Chris moved his hand again and Zach’s fingers came down on Chris's wrist, tightening slightly.

“I’m still ready for your cock, Zach." Chris bit him, deliberately, teasing. Zach's whole body flinched. "Please. I want you so much.”

Zach’s eyes shut and he had to consciously count his breaths.  This. This one thing was not confusing. There was no misconstruing Chris's need, or the effects that Chris's words had on him. In another instant, Zach was on his feet, noticing but uncaring of his white handkerchief as it fluttered down onto his chair, intent on moving Chris out of the mix of people.  The pure, bell-like tones of Katherine’s voice seemed to fade away. He heard Chris gasp, and laugh and they stumbled over someone’s legs and finally out of the room. Sparing  a heartbeat for a quick glance about the mostly deserted hallway, Zach yanked Chris to him, and kissed him, desperate for his mouth.  He pushed Chris back into the closest wall, uncaring of the shocked gasp of the woman standing just down the hall, fixing her hair. She threw them a disgusted look and bustled her way into the dark music room.  Chris laughed into the kiss, uncaring, focused only on Zach.

It was at that moment that Zach realized that he was absolutely, irrevocably, in love with his husband.

Zach’s hands came up to Chris's cheeks, holding him to him, licking into his mouth and pressing his body as close as he could. Chris's hands closed on his wrists, anchoring him. Zach was frantic to drown in him.

“Wait. Zach… _ wait _ !”

Zach pulled off of his mouth, gasping for air. He was the man who collapses in a desert, only to see the oasis within his grasp. He stared into Chris's impossibly blue eyes, his own gaze dazed with want.

Chris took a step and they fell into the adjacent formal dining room, empty and dark. They wouldn’t begin lighting the room until after dinner.

The room was illuminated briefly from a flash of lightning from outside. Zach’s eyes flared, the pupils adjusting to the brief light. He was suddenly extremely focused.  There was a small side table that would suit his purposes just fine.  He helped Chris with his clothes, uncaring that they were within sight of anyone who happened by. The darkness was total, except for when the lightning flared, bathing everything in a startlingly white glow.

Chris began undoing his own trousers, kicking off his boots and shoving off his clothes. He stood there in the top half of his tuxedo, and turned around bracing himself against the small table.  He arched his back a little and Zach looked at him, at the sculptured, beautiful back tapering down to the rounded, lush ass. 

He did not deserve this precious person in front of him.  Zach’s throat tightened again.

“No. Turn around.” Chris looked at him a little confused, and the sudden possessive knowledge that he was the only one to ever touch Chris like this, the only one who would ever feel his tight, grasping heat, caused Zach to growl, the sound spilling from his throat as he reached down to touch Chris's cock as it jutted proudly from his husband's body.

Chris moaned, and Zach shushed him with his hand over his mouth.  There wasn’t a closed door, and they were separated from the hallway by only a thick curtain.  “You must be quiet, Chris.” He squeezed his fist, turning his wrist and tightening the palm of his hand over the head of Chris's cock, watching with satisfaction as his husband quaked in front of him, eyes fluttering shut.  

“But… But, I want…”

“I know.”  He pressed on Chris's hip, pushing him back onto the small table. Chris still looked confused for a moment, but moved where Zach urged. It occurred to him that Chris did not know what to do because Zach had only fucked him from behind on their wedding night, weeks ago.

Zach had to close his eyes at the realization of how much Chris trusted him. His stomach twisted with such self-loathing that he had to take a deep, centering breath before he could continue. Zach knew that there would be time for him to beg Chris's forgiveness for the horrible way he had treated him. Later. Now though, now _this_ was what he craved, what Chris so obviously needed and wanted. Zach helped Chris to position himself against the table. He would have smiled at the way Chris's face seemed to light up with sudden understanding. He slid back on the surface, his legs sprawling as wide as he could make them, hands pushing up his cummerbund and shirt, wrinkling the fine fabric without a thought.

Zach slid his hand down, both of them groaning at the feeling of his finger sliding into Chris's quivering hole. Zach felt sweat pop out all over his body, at the slick, wet feel. Chris sucked in his breath, when Zach slid in another finger with no resistance.

“How many fingers did you use?” Zach twisted the two inside of him, and Chris gasped again, drawing one heel up, balancing it on the edge of the table. Zach continued to rub his thumb over the slit of Chris's cock, one part of him still shocked that Chris had actually done this to himself, the other part of him so desperate to bury himself inside that he was panting, biting his lips to keep from moaning.

“Wh—what?”

Zach shifted so that he was bent over Chris, moving his thumb faster, rocking his fingers more firmly, and stroking Chris's inner walls, slick with the oil he’d used to prepare himself.  He was careful not to touch that small bundle of nerves, twisting his fingers so that his middle finger just fell short of that sweet spot.  Chris tried to arch into Zach’s touch, not knowing what his body was searching for.

“How many fingers did you have inside of you?”

“Th—ahh!-  _ three _ !”

Zach pulled his fingers back feeling Chris's hole twitch as he clenched, trying to keep Zach inside. He slowly slid his first three fingers back into the stretched little hole. Zach couldn’t see it properly, but he could imagine: red and stretched, slick with oil and ready for his cock. Zach’s eyes had adjusted to the dark room, and he could see Chris's eyes glinting with tears, could see his legs tremble as he moved his other leg up on the table.   Zach shoved them all the way in, twisting, rubbing the tip of his middle finger over Chris's prostate, grinning ferally when Chris's head knocked back against the table as he gasped, moaning Zach’s name into the quiet room.  His whole body tensed and Zach cursed himself, hating his stubborn stupidity for wasting so much time trying to make Chris miserable. He could have been watching Chris fall apart beneath him for  _ weeks _ . Instead, Zach owned the cold, hard knowledge that Zach had been so focused on his own pleasure the one time they’d been together that Chris had never felt this before. 

“Oh please oh Zach, oh…. _ Zach _ !”

Zach licked his lips, removing his hands from Chris's body with an effort. He undid the fastenings of his trousers with shaky hands and felt them slide to the ground. Zach bent down, kissing Chris slowly, drawing away only when both their lips trembled, tongues tangling together before Zach had to move his face away, reaching down to place the head of his cock at Chris's hot, twitching little entrance.  They both froze for a moment; their beating hearts the only sounds in the room. 

They could hear applause from the other area, and it almost drowned out Chris's soft, “Yes, Zach. Yesss…”

Zach put trembling hands onto Chris's hips and began to slide inside, working himself in inch by slow inch. He didn’t stop until he was buried fully inside of Chris, feeling his husband shudder underneath him, the muscles quivering around his cock, almost causing his eyes to roll back in his head at the indescribable heat that engulfed his length once again.

“Fuck,  _ oh fuck _ , baby you feel so… “ Zach muttered, drawing out slowly and thrusting back inside, feeling his balls slap against Chris's ass with a sharp sound. They both cried out.

Zach forgot everything except the heat and pressure and connection, one of Chris's legs wrapped around his waist as he used the other for leverage, pushing up into Zach’s thrust, a little keening cry falling from his lips each time that Zach’s cock slid over the sensitive bump of nerves.  Chris's hands came up to Zach’s face again, holding him in place as he arched up. Zach continued to thrust, now more frantically as he felt Chris begin to tighten, and moved his hand to grasp Chris's cock again.

“I love you Zach oh I love you I do I love you so much…!”

Zach felt Chris's cock start to jerk, his orgasm sending his twitching hole tightening. Zach thrust one more time, as deep as he could as he kept his eyes on Chris's beautiful face, sweaty and flushed and wrecked for him as long as possible before he felt himself start to spurt deep within Chris's body.

Chris pulled Zach’s face closer to him, kissing all over his cheeks, his forehead, finally resting their foreheads together as their hearts started to slow down.

“I do. I love you so  _ much _ , Zach.” His whisper seemed to fill up Zach’s whole world. Zach’s throat closed. He was unable to speak, overwhelmed by what he felt for this man underneath him.

The small titter caused Zach to freeze, his heart  skipping a beat in his chest.

The titter was joined by a low, deep laugh. 

Conversation:

“---Quinto was right.”

“--- ten dollars! I never should have bet against you. He said that he could get the little bastard to moan for him and I’ll be damned if he didn’t. I never would have guessed!”

“—little prude with his nose stuck so far up in the air! I never would have believed it! ”

A cruel laugh, joined by others, one after another, joining in like some mocking chorus.

Frozen, Zach watched as the soft light drained out of Chris's eyes, the blissful, dazed joy turning to shock and horror right before his very gaze. The beautiful mouth twisted.

“No. _No_ , Chris…” Zach’s whisper was a bare breath of sound.

But Chris pushed him, hard, sending Zach off balance.  He flailed his arms for a moment, unable to catch his balance with the way his tuxedo trousers pooled around his ankles, before losing his balance completely falling over directly onto his ass. Lightning illuminated the room, showing their audience god knew what. 

Chris wouldn’t look at him as he fairly flew off the table, finding his trousers and pulling them up with a sharp jerk.  Zach barely had time to pull up his own clothes, before he heard the people outside the door rudely slapping Chris on the back, congratulating him, laughing and shouting crudities at him. Chris actually had to push his way through the crowd of people. Zach made it to the doorway catching a glimpse of the back of Chris's head as he ran for the front door, uncaring that his shoes were still somewhere on the floor behind Zach.

“You made me a hundred bucks, sir!”

Zach wanted to punch him. This wasn’t supposed to happen! He’d told Katherine  _ no _ , had told her not to, to wait for the sig-.

_ Oh fuck. _

The handkerchief.

Zach actually wheezed, bending over a little, his hand clutched over his mouth. His fingers were still slick from being inside of Chris.

He couldn’t stay here. He had to go... to explain…  Zach ran after his husband, catching one quick glimpse of Zoe’s stricken face, her eyes so wide that he feared for a moment that she would faint and thought he was going to vomit.

_ This wasn’t supposed to happen, god _ d amnit _! _

Zach pushed people aside wily-nily, uncaring for the sharp “see here’s” and disgruntled “Now, just a moment, sir’” that followed him as he ran down the hallway, into the foyer and outside.

“Chris!” He yelled into the night, big wet drops of rain beginning to plop down in earnest.  “ _ Chris _ !!”

He heard the sound of hooves and realized that Chris must have simply taken one of the many horses that were being held out on the grounds as their owners listened to the concert.

Zach looked around and found one not too far from him. He ran to the horse, wincing when the beast reared back and cried out, shrilly enough to cause Zach’s head to begin to throb. He swung onto the horse, clamping his legs onto it with determination. A sharp jerk of the reins and he was off, chasing after Chris in the cold, dark night.

Every single time the hooves of the horse hit the ground, Zach swore at himself. The plan had seemed so flawless. So easy to lure Chris into a marriage, to keep him emotionally off balance. The bet had been a stroke of genius; a way to humiliate Chris in front of everyone he knew. Only by taking everything away from Chris could he begin to make him sorry for what he had to his family.

Now it just seemed petty and needlessly cold. So fucking unnecessary. 

Chris's soft words echoed over and over in his head.  _ “I do. I love you so much, Zach”  _  and Zach’s only thought was to find him, to beg his forgiveness, to apologize and grovel and somehow… find some way try to make this right.

Somehow.

Chris turned sharply, sending the horse cantering over the fields, towards the lake. Zach knew where he was in an instant. The pond was to Chris's left, the gazebo a shining white blur in the distance, across the other side of the lake.

“Chris!”  Zach could see him in the distance. Lightning flashed, sending Chris's horrified look over his shoulder back towards Zach into sharp, distinct relief against the black sky. There was another crash of thunder, and Zach realized what was going to happen mere seconds before it actually did.

Chris turned back, in his panic and desperation not realizing he still held the reins, jerking them. The unfamiliar horse, confused and not knowing its rider, bucked sharply. Caught unaware, Chris was sent tumbling to the ground with a sickening  _ crack  _ of sound that seemed to echo back to Zach like a slap to the face. His bare foot was caught in the stirrup, slipping out with a small _thump_. 

Zach’s breath simply stopped as the horse jumped over Chris, cantering off into the distance.  Chris began to slide down the expanse of muddy embankment, the mud from the pond’s shore giving way under Chris's weight, unable to support him with the day and a half of rain that had drenched everything for miles around.  Knocked cold, Chris couldn’t stop his slide towards the pond.

“ _NO!_ ”

Zach swung off his horse, running as fast as he could, knowing that he would not make it in time. Chris had simply had too much of a head start.

Chris's unmoving body slid quickly down the small muddy embankment, falling into the pond’s back water with a large splash. Zach panted  as he watched Chris go under water.  Zach’s legs slid out from underneath him, and he jumped back up, realizing that the sharp scream that seemed to go on and on and on was not the horse that he’d vaulted off of, but his own voice.  He slid down the embankment, pushing himself into the water.

“No! Chris…  _ Chris _ !”

There was no light. Chris had not taken off the black coat of the tuxedo, and Zach couldn't _see_. The moon was behind the cloud and lightning---

Lightning!

It flashed and Zach saw Chris's still form, floating in the water. Zach jumped, swimming over to him, feeling as though he were pushing through mud, moving by a pure strength of will rather than any swimming ability. His evening clothes seemed to weigh pounds, but he did not let that slow him down.  The water was much deeper on this side of the pond, and Zach could not touch the bottom. He floundered, reaching out with his arms and kicking his legs to get to Chris.  

His fingers brushed against something solid, and Zach clutched, desperate. He heard a wheezing, gasping sound and couldn't seem to keep it in his throat.

Lightning flashed again as he turned Chris's body over in the water.

His hand came away wet with something too thick to be water. Zach stared in horrified shock as the blood from Chris's head wound dripped off of his hand into the water, landing with small _plops_.

Lightning flashed again. 

Chris.

His face. 

His beautiful, sweet, beloved face was as pale and still as death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where I apologize for having a cliffhanger. So... yeah. 
> 
> :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some wonky medical practices, a tiny bit of dub-con, and descriptions of gross stuff. Last chapter will be posted tomorrow morning!

Every time the lightning flashed, Zach would look down at Chris's still face.  His gaze went from his bloody hand to the man he still held, carefully keeping his face above the water. He bent over Chris, trying to listen for breath, for something to hint of life.

There was nothing.

The water was just deep enough that at first Zach was disoriented, jumping as he’d done for Chris's body as it floated in the pond. Now he was afraid to let go, lest he lose him again in the darkness.   He stared at Chris for a moment, unable to turn away.  Zach shook his husband’s shoulders, shouting into his face. “Wake up! Damnit, Chris!” He slapped his cheek, flinching away from the unnaturally cool skin.  Zach looked around, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. Chris was still unmoving.  _ He. Was not. Moving. _  Zach had never been so afraid for anyone in his life. 

Zach tried not to panic. He couldn’t afford the weakness. Chris needed him and he  _ must _ get him out of this water. He must. The water was absolutely frigid.  Lightning flashed again and Zach craned his neck. From his vantage point he still could not figure out where he was, but he knew he was in the pond at the northern end of his property.  The gazebo would be to his back. This was the deeper area; the part where the servants would normally go fishing. 

Zach ignored the cold, stealing another glance at Chris. The lightning cast his husband’s features in sharp relief against the darkness of Zach’s sodden jacket. His eyes were shut, thick, viscous blood still sliding over his pale face. In the darkness it looked black.

Zach glanced up, trying again to get his bearings. It was no use. He could not wait for direction. He must begin to get Chris out of this water. He pushed off with his legs, his sodden clothes and the weight from Chris and his clothes sending Zach plunging underwater.  It was unexpected, and he inhaled some water, coughing and sputtering as he fought to keep Chris's head above the surface.  He had been too far away to see if Chris had drowned or if he had just knocked himself unconscious before sliding into the water.  Zach pushed with his legs again, almost sobbing with relief when he felt the sandy floor against his feet. 

He could not stop replaying the last few minutes of Chris's confession in his head as he swam, half walking, half just kicking his legs towards the embankment.  It took him several minutes to get there, but every second felt like an hour. Zach could not tell if Chris was breathing. He absolutely, unconditionally refused to even entertain the thought that Chris was… no _. It was not possible _ . The fates could not be so cruel.

He would not let them.

Zach felt the bottom of his arm scrape against the muddy bit of land and could not help the exhale of relief that shuddered from his throat. Lightning flashed again and Zach could see that the there was quite a bit of space from the embankment near the road to the water. Possibly three feet of a drop-off. He wasn’t sure if he had even noticed before; his uncontrolled desperation to get into the water was a blur.  He switched his grip, standing behind Chris and grasping  under his arms. Zach attempted to pull himself up onto the embankment, but  only slid in the slippery mud, almost losing his grip on Chris in the process. He swore colorfully. He must get Chris home. It was imperative that he get him warmed.

He  _ must _ .

Zach moved again, trying to move quickly. He bent and kissed Chris on his still lips, his own eyes burning when he felt how very cold they were. Like ice.   _ Hurry hurry hurry you must, must hurry. _  He propped Chris against the embankment so that his husband’s back was against the wet earth, sitting in the water to the waist.  Zach moved a little further down, scrambling up the mud. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chris sliding over, unable to hold himself up.

“NO!”

His cry was drowned out by a sudden crash of thunder. Zach dived, twisting and stretching his arms, catching Chris's shoulder more by luck than any actual skill. He felt his fingernails rip as he hung onto the fabric of Chris's clothes and very carefully moved his own body so that he was able to pull Chris up. 

The mud was too slick. Zach couldn’t find any way to use his feet as leverage. The fragile earth began to crumble underneath him, and Zach desperately tried to throw both he and Chris back, changing the center of gravity.

No luck.

Zach screamed in frustration as he felt the mud sliding, gravity pulling him back into the water. Last evening, Zach  had lifted Chris into his arms and carried him up the stairs with very little effort, but the tenuous grip he now had combined with the slippery muck made it nearly impossible to heave Chris's weight up and onto the ground.

Zach felt himself slipping, sliding down and tried once again to throw himself back, but knew that this time it would not work. He could not stop their plunge back into the water.

“Goddamn  _ bastard _ !”  Karl’s arms on his shoulders, desperately pulling Zach was all that saved he and the unconscious Chris from tumbling back in.  “You  _ stupid _ ,” Karl yanked again, and Zach felt he and Chris slide back up towards safety. Chris was now out of the water completely, dangling in the air. Zach tightened his grip, desperately holding on with every bit of strength that he had left. “… bloody fucking… _ Yank _ …”

Karl lay gasping with Zach lying on top of him; Chris sprawled slightly to the side. The two of them gasped for breath for a moment before Karl roughly pushed Zach off, turning Chris over with gentle hands.

Zach growled, pushing Karl to the side, bending to listen at Chris's chest.  He was stunned with relief when he heard Chris's heartbeat.  Zach felt everything tilt, and his vision almost grayed out for a moment, so relieved was he at the small sound, only heard faintly over the thunder and Karl’s cursing.

Zach was completely unprepared for the undercut that exploded onto his jaw, pain bursting into shocked awareness behind his eyes. All he could see were white bursts of light as his head rocked back. He lost his balance completely and slid back onto his ass in the mud, gaping up at a furious Karl.

“How dare you pretend like you  _ care _ ? This is your fault!” 

Zach saw Zoe come running up, heedless of the way her skirts trailed in the mud.  She stepped around him as though he wasn’t even there, falling to her knees beside her brother. Zach saw she was crying, looking up to Karl.

“Can we please get him to the house? Please, Karl. We must get him…  _ pl-please _ !?’

Zach started to straighten, reaching out to help Zoe and was utterly shocked when her sweet face distorted with hatred as she saw his aborted movement. “You just stay away from us,” she hissed, mouth twisted into a snarl, arms curling protectively around her brother.

Zach froze, his hand hovering slightly over one of Chris's legs. Karl wasted no time, scooping Chris up and striding to the horse that stood by the lane, calmly watching them.  Zoe hurried after him, yanking furiously on her skirts as they soaked up the filthy mud.

“We’ll have to sit three. You’ll need to help balance him, Zoe.” Karl's voice was firm with direction. 

Zach watched as he knelt there, noting how effortlessly Zoe swung up onto the horse, sitting astride with the simple expediency of yanking her skirts up out of the way, uncaring that her translucent stockings clung to her legs.  She held the reins, gripping the animal with her knees. Between the two of them they managed to get Chris seated, and Karl swung up in back, almost hanging off of the animal’s rump but holding Chris carefully.  Karl’s horse moved at Zoe’s simple _cluck_ of her tongue. They left towards Zach and Chris's home at a brisk trot.

Zach knelt there, feeling as though the only important thing in his life was slipping through his fingers.  His jaw ached abominably.

Zach knew he deserved worse.

Slowly, he got to his feet, staggering as the adrenaline left his body, leaving him drained.  The rain was beginning to slow; the ferocity of the storm finally tapering off.  

Or maybe he had just stopped noticing it.

Zach began the long walk, cutting through the south end of his property.   He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, too numb to begin to organize his thoughts.

_ \--Chris, staring up at him, cupping his face so very tenderly. _

_ \--The horrified look in his husband's blue eyes as the laughter began; the realization that Zach had been instrumental in his humiliation causing the tender look in his eyes to drain away. _

_ \-- The stunned, hurt shock. _

_ \--Chris turning at his yell, the look on his face a study of disgusted, fearful misery. _

_ \-- Chris, floating face down in the water. _

Zach shook his head at the last one, scrubbing the palms of his hands over his face.  He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, welcoming the bright burst of light under his eyelids. Zach moaned, stopping still for a moment.  Chris was waiting for him inside. Perhaps he could be of some use, somehow.  Zach trudged on, stumbling over rocks and fallen limbs left in the wake of the storm.  He could see his house. It seemed as though every light blazed as he stumbled again against the corner of the stable, jogging now to get inside to Chris more quickly. 

The heat from the house seemed stifling. Zach stood, dripping mud and water onto his floor as he blinked stupidly in the light.  He saw Karl running down the stairs and flinched when Karl completely ignored him as he ran by, shouting for his horse.  Zach took a few steps inside, following the mud up the carpeted staircase up to his bedroom.  Zoe and Lisbet bustled around, stripping the clothes from Chris's unresponsive body.  Zach hung back in his own doorway as he watched them. Chris's skin looked almost grey in the light, his lips faintly blue.  The wound in his head was quite large; the skin ripped and torn from the horse's hooves. The bleeding had slowed somewhat, but a small amount still trickled down the middle of his forehead, zig-zagging down the side of his nose, over his eye and down his temple.

The blood looked like tears.

Zach felt his stomach twist as he looked at the physical proof of his treachery. Chris looked like death.  Lisbet didn’t bother with pajamas, instead had bundled him naked into several duvets.  Chris seemed very young in the bed; covers pulled up to his chin. 

Zach must have made some small sound in his throat because when Lisbet turned from Chris's bed to look at the doorway, Zach actually took a step back when he saw the look on her face.  The older woman’s face was perfectly calm… but her _eyes_. 

Her eyes held the fury of any mother faced with a wounded child.

“If ye get in my way I will have you removed from this room.” 

Zach found himself nodding mutely. 

She turned to Zoe. “Just what we need. Another useless man underfoot.” her mutter held no attempt at subtlety. “Good thinking sweetheart. Sending Mr. Urban to the doctor will keep him out of our hair while we fix this. Did you find the thread? The fine kind, mind you. It must be the silken.”

The girl nodded, looking like she was going to pass out as she dug through a sewing basket.  She swayed a little, her complexion turning faintly green when she darted glances at her brother's wound from under her eyelashes.

Zach stepped forward, strangely hesitant. He was completely out of his element. Lisbet seemed extremely competent as she bustled around the room, setting Chris to rights.  He realized with a start that Lisbet would have had many, many opportunities to stitch Chris up after an argument with his father.

“May I help? Zoe. Please. Let me help you.”  Zach wasn’t certain why his voice came out whispered, but he could not seem to help it.  He watched, his heart hurting as the young woman who he’d been so drawn to, so completely enraptured by… the sister he’d never had, stiffened  and recoiled at hearing his voice.  “Please.”

Her shoulders seemed to droop. She nodded, leaving Chris's bedside.  “Lisbet. He can hold him. I think I shall find some warm clothing.”  Zoe very carefully avoided Zach’s eyes as she left. She gave him wide berth as she avoided even her mangled skirts touching him. Zach could not blame her in the slightest.

Lisbet waved a hand, hardly seeming to notice and Zach, who was much filthier than Zoe, looked down at himself.  He seemed to snap out of the daze he’d been in, striding to the armoire and pulling out a dressing robe. He quickly stripped off and slid on the thin robe. 

“Be sure to wash your hands.”

Zach nodded, going into the attached bathing room and wiping much of the mud off of his face and hair, quickly washing his hands.  He crossed quickly back out to the bed and climbed up onto it. Lisbet sat on the other side, dipping the needle and thread in a small bowl of whiskey. She held the needle over the candle flame, waiting until it was red-hot.  Zach’s stomach lurched as he realized what was about to happen.

“You must hold his face- to keep him from thrashing.” She tutted under her breath. “I do hope he doesn’t scar. The vain little peacock would hate that.”

Zach was shocked that he smiled. She was right.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” He reached forward and held Chris's face in his hands, firmly, so that he couldn’t thrash from side to side. 

“So, m’lor’. When are you planning on telling Lisbet what happened, hmm? I love this boy as if he were my own.  That Mr. Urban was swearing something fierce, but I’ve found that these things always seem to have another side.”

Zach knew it would be bad. Chris flinched away from the needle, still unconscious. Watching as Lisbet quickly sewed up the head wound; the needle flashing in the light from beside the bedside as it slid in and out of Chris's flesh caused Zach to wince each time. Chris flinched under his hands, making small pain sounds.  He was still passed out, otherwise unresponsive.

Lisbet looked down at him, kindly. “It will be eleven stitches, sir. He’s survived worse.”

Zach closed his eyes momentarily as the emotion seemed to hit him all at once.  Before he quite knew how it happened, the whole story came tumbling out, words starting out slowly before tripping over themselves to get out of his mouth.  In school, Chris playing that horrible trick on him. Running away from the school, only to lose his brother and mother to the fire. Figuring out a way to make Chris his.  His stupid fucking plan. How he’d tried to call it off, indeed, how he had been so relieved to stall it in time. How he had unknowingly dropped his handkerchief while Chris whispered to him, driving him completely insane with want.  A heavily edited version of what happened afterwards.  He spoke softly, his voice dipping and rising with his self-loathing and sarcasm.  Chris was shivering now, quaking under his hands.

“Ah, poor dear. Best that he’s out for this, really. We’ll need to put him in your bathtub to warm him up. I don’t like that shade of his lips. And you’ll be forgiving me for saying this, sir but you’re just as cold and filthy. Perhaps you will assist him?”

“Of course.”  Zach was confused, momentarily. Had she not heard him? Did she not comprehend the enormity of what he had done? Why... why would she want  _him_ there?

Lisbet put the sewing implements away and crossed quickly to the bathroom, beginning to fill the huge bathtub with water.  She came back out, drying her hands on her apron. “I’ll go and check on Zoe. I’m sure you can be handling anything here. He must get warm, Mr. Quinto.” She made a clucking sound, looking down at her handiwork. The faint strain of worry had left her face, and she looked impossibly fond of the man shivering under the bedclothes. "He's a stubborn one, that one. He'll be fine. Have quite the headache, o'course." She grabbed the bloody towels and left the room. 

Zach nodded solemnly.  He caught sight of himself in the floor-length mirror. He did not look like the rich and coldly powerful CEO of QuinEnterprises with eyes bloodshot, mud in streaks all over his face. His jaw was swollen, and Zach brought his fingers to the sore spot, blinking in surprise to see his skin starting to turn a dark reddish purple.

He slid off the robe and walked into the bathing chamber, wetting a towel and setting soap and hair cleanser near the back of the bathtub so that he could easily reach them later.  The water continued to fill the tub, steam curling up in the cooler room. Zach went back out to his bed and stripped off the duvets, biting his lip at the many bumps and abrasions that bloomed on Chris's pale body. He’d been so very lucky that the frightened horse had not trampled him. Even though the blow to the head had knocked him out, he could have easily broken his neck once he fell into the water. Not to mention drowning.  Zach bent down to kiss Chris's cold, still lips again, and shuddered from the sensation.  He moved, reaching under Chris and cradling him close to his body.  Zach was just about to stand up when Chris stirred, burying his head into Zach’s chest.

“Zach? ‘M cold.” 

“Can you stand?”

There was a moment before Chris started to move.  Zach helped him swing his legs over onto the floor, too ashamed to attempt to look in Chris's eyes.  It took Chris a few moments before he was able to stand, leaning heavily onto Zach. “I had the most horrible dream, Zach.”

Tears sprung to Zach’s eyes as he helped him to the bathing chamber, holding Chris securely against his body. He did not even know where to  _ begin _ to apologize. His words completely deserted him.  Zach nuzzled his nose against the top of Chris's head as Chris stopped for a moment, holding his ribs and gasping.

“Come on, Chris. A bath will feel just the thing.”

Chris nodded, sweetly kissing the hollow of Zach’s throat.  He obviously was too muddled from the experience to understand why he should not be acting so sweetly. Zach helped Chris step over the marble edge, watching as he hissed a as he slid into the hot water. The stitches on his face looked horrific, bloody and painful under the brighter light. Zoe or Lisbet had lit several lamps in here, and it was actually quite bright.  Zach hesitated for a moment before climbing into the water behind Chris. 

Chris grunted when Zach’s chilled body slid against his back, but he wiggled a little in the tub, scooting down until just his chin was out of the water, hanging onto Zach’s thighs so that he didn’t go under. 

“Chris.”

“Mm?”

“You must not get your head wet. You’ve hurt your head. That is why you’re feeling dizzy and not yourself.”

“Mmm.” Chris was compliant to wherever Zach moved him, washing his body with the soap. Occasionally he had to lean up, or shift so that Zach could reach his ankles and feet.  He washed Chris's hair carefully, not allowing any soap or water to trickle down onto Chris's wound. Chris stared up at Zach’s face over him as Zach rinsed his hair, now grown longish in the few weeks that they had been married.

“All done,” Zach said breathlessly, staring into Chris's eyes as they blinked up at him, guilelessly.

“No you’re not. You didn’t get… everywhere.” Chris's voice was exhausted, yet his lips still twitched mischievously.

Zach felt nauseous. 

Chris wanted to be touched. After the relaxing bath, and the feeling of safety, perhaps from the landrum that hid the pain of his head, he did not remember what Zach had done to him.  He knew that touching Chris when he didn't have all of the facts was appalling, but his own guilt and the need to... somehow make up for his actions warred with each other. Zach was fairly certain that the bright red that had filled Chris's cheeks was due to the elevated heat in the steam-filled room. Zach couldn’t meet his gaze anymore. He wanted to do anything to make Chris forgive him, even if he wasn't sure....

Zach turned away, shifting Chris's body so that he held him in the V of his thighs, one of Zach’s strong arms holding him still. Holding Chris to him. The other hand reached out somewhat tentatively with the soapy flannel. He brushed it over Chris's cock, biting his lip at the way his husband sucked in a deep breath at the sensation.  Chris's cock began to harden as he spread his legs.  Zach licked at his swollen lip, slowly reaching down with the cloth, trying to keep his touch clinical instead of sexual. 

Zach had just moved the cloth up Chris's stomach when Chris's body stiffened completely, pulling sharply away from Zach’s, rising up in the water so quickly that he fell over, catching himself just barely on the marble tub. A huge amount of water gushed out of the tub and onto the floor.  

“Do not.... How?   _ How _ could you think that I would ever want you to touch me like that again?” Chris's eyes were enormous as he stared at Zach, finally furious. 

Zach also froze, realizing that Chris had just remembered what had happened; that the dazed, confused flirtiness from seconds ago had indeed not been real.   Guilt and a disgusted shame hit him in the gut, just as powerfully as Urban had struck Zach’s jaw. Chris had been so relaxed before he’d touched him, and Chris just did not have it in him to be deceitful.

_ Chris did not have it in him to be …deceitful.  _ Oh. Oh,  _ God _ .

Zach felt as though he'd been struck a third time. The simple thought was as devastating as realizing that Chris had been innocent in the murders of his family. 

Before Zach could quite grasp the implications, Chris lurched violently again, scrambling with lethargic, unresponsive limbs, trying with every bit of himself to get away from Zach.

“Stop!” Zach rose up to his knees, grabbing Chris just in time to prevent his collapsing or from overbalancing and hitting his head again on the faucet. Chris made a sound in his throat, a mix of disgust and desperation that hurt Zach’s heart.  It took Zach two tries before he could actually speak.

“I will help you back to bed. You must allow me this mercy, Chris.”

“I do not… I…” He sounded wrecked, as though he were trying to keep from crying. Disgust at himself swam over Zach so completely that he felt like he was once again underwater.

“Just allow me to assist you back to your bed. Please.”

Chris still knelt in the tub, curled away from Zach, but he nodded once, his carriage one that was utterly defeated. 

Zach got out of the tub and found a large white towel. He tossed it over his shoulder and bent to help Chris step carefully out of the tub. Chris shivered violently again at the cooler air, and Zach wasted no time in quickly drying Chris off, like one would do a child.

Chirs swayed, one hand over his mouth. “No... I think I’m going to… I feel…”

Zach just helped him to the basin, helping to steady his husband while he got sick.  Chris moaned. Zach left him there on the floor and walked naked to get him another cloth, this one with cold water on it.  He carefully wiped Chris's face, clearing it of the sweat and blood that he had not gotten before now.

“Are you well?”

“No, Zach. I am definitely not ‘well.’”

Had Zach been in any other situation, he would have had to smile at the downright testy response. As it was, he just helped Chris to the sink, letting him take care of himself, but standing closely enough that Zach could assist him if he needed it. Chris made a face and rinsed out his mouth, cleaning it with tooth powder.  Chris was visibly drooping now, exhaustion evident in every single, slow movement.

Zach grasped his arm, not reacting when Chris jerked it out of his grasp on reflex, before trying to walk out of the bathroom under his own pure, stubborn power. Zach watched him stagger and almost had to catch him again, but Chris seemed to view the distance from the bathing chamber’s doorway to his bed with trepidation; his shoulders sagging as though he simply could not make himself move.  

Zach helped him into bed, finding some pajamas for him and helping him dress without a word.

“Zach. Please don’t be here when I wake up.”

Zach faltered, looking up quickly as Chris turned his face away from him on the pillow, as though he couldn't bear to look at the man he'd married.  Zach stood there stupidly, his heart beating wildly at Chris's words, forgetting for a moment to dress himself.  He nodded. He would do whatever Chris wanted, of course. Zach pulled on a shirt and fastened his breeches, sliding his feet into a different pair of boots.  “If that is what you wish.”

Chris was quiet for a moment, only a small gasp of breath letting Zach know that the younger man was trying desperately to hide the fact that he was weeping from his husband.  “Yes. It is.”

Not so long ago, Zach would have once relished the idea that he could have made Christopher Pine cry. He would have held the knowledge to himself like a dragon over its hoard, jealously enjoying each, separate tear.  Now, Zach wished only for Chris's happiness. If that was what Chris wanted, Zach would certainly grant him whatever he desired. How could he not? 

Zach nodded and walked towards the door. He could feel Chris's eyes on his back, but could not force himself to turn, to see the hatred in the beloved face.

“Do you know what’s funny?” Chris forced a laugh that sounded anything but amused. “If you had not…” He stopped for a moment, and it  _ killed  _ Zach to hear the little catch in his voice. If you had not lied to Zoe and … and made her a part of this, I likely would have been able to forgive you.  In time.”

Zach flinched as though hit.

He nodded, opened the door, and quit the room, managing to stagger to his study before he allowed his own stupid, useless tears to fall. 

 

* * *

 

“Zach!”

Zach looked up as he swung down off of his horse, frankly shocked to see Zoe running towards him.  He was absolutely exhausted.  He had accomplished quite a lot in the twelve hours that he had been gone.  All he wanted in this world was to check on Chris, then to fall into a bed and sleep the exhausted sleep of the dead.

Zoe reached him just as his booted feet touched the packed dirt of the stable floor. She launched herself at him, thin arms flailing, small fists striking his chest with surprising strength. She began to sob so hard that whatever she was saying was lost.  Her fists beat at him, and he had to hold her small wrists with one hand, wrapping his other arm around her so that she wouldn’t hurt herself. Bewildered, Zach looked around the empty stable for some sort of answer.  Zoe’s tears were very hot on his neck.  Zach let go of her, then changed his mind, arms closing around her as her hands fisted in his shirt as though she couldn't bear to let go.  

Zoe was almost hysterical, but she pulled away slightly, gripping Zach’s hand hard enough that he felt the small bones grind together.  Zoe kept gasping, sucking in air as though she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs.  

“Zoe. Breathe, pet. Come now, you must tell me what is wrong.”  He didn’t notice how quickly Chris's  name for her came to his lips. Zach was fairly certain he knew what was wrong with the girl; it had been too much. What she had heard at Katherine’s soiree, what she had seen when she and Karl took Chris away from him, everything must have hit her at once.  

She yanked again, and Zach took a step, trying to hold her close to him, to try to calm her down. Faintly he felt shame for using her this way. Holding her made him feel useful.  She smelled sweet, and her tiny body made him feel protective. Even if she hated him, and rightfully so, he wanted this one moment with her.  He did not know what had caused her to seek him out, but thanked God for it, although Zach had very little experience with hysterical women and was quite out of his element.  Zoe sobbed something, and Zach felt himself letting go of her in absolute shock when he realized that she’d been saying Chris's name over and over.

“What? _What_ is the matter?” Zach’s hands went to her shoulders and he had to check himself to be sure that he didn’t hurt her in his sudden, petrifying worry.  He made his fingers unclench from her fragile arms.

“It… it is….”

“Zoe. You will listen to me.” Zach made his voice colder than she had ever heard him use. It was the voice he used when dealing with wayward employees.  It was the voice he had used with Chris, much to his eternal shame. Zoe looked up at him in surprise, eyes still swimming with tears.  The tone had worked; shocking her out of her hysteria, sending her gulping her last sob.

“Take a deep breath.”  Zach’s voice warmed slightly, now that he had her full attention.

She did, still gasping. 

“Another, Zoe.”

She did so, then nodded, looking up at him.  “The d-d-doctor.  We had just  wanted him to look him over, but … it is.. a fever. Chris has a fever! It came so quickly and Karl sent me out of the room when he … We… we could not find you and the doctor won’t  _ stop _ ! It’s _killing_ him, Zach!” She reached for his hands again, pulling Zach out of the stables. “You must _hurry_!”

Zach whirled, following in Zoe’s wake as she hiked up her skirts, sprinting back towards the house.  Zach wanted to hit something. He had only left the actual premises because Chris had awoken, and was safe enough with Lisbet watching over him. Zach had left to try to corral the damage he'd wrought. He remembered that Karl had gone for the doctor, and a paralyzing fear had him pausing for a moment, unable to continue.  What could possibly have happened in the hours that he had been away?

Zoe tugged on his hand once again, and Zach had to physically shake himself so that he could move.  They ran, thundering up the stairs.  He had a moment to see Lisbet’s skirts and Karl’s furious pacing before the sight on his bed stopped him fully in his tracks.

The doctor was bleeding Chris.

Later, Zach would never be able to recall exactly what had happened.  One moment he was standing in the doorway, looking at his husband on the bed. In the next moment Karl was pulling him off the doctor. The man, who was perhaps three or four years older than Zach, had a bloody nose and bent over, was wheezing into his handkerchief.

“ _ Out _ .” Zach’s growl caused the man to look up, defiance in his face. “Get out of my home.”

“If I leave, he will die!”

The doctor’s words caused Zach to clench his fists again.  He knew, peripherally, that Karl was tensed behind him to keep him from killing the man, Zoe and Lisbet watching wide-eyed from the doorway.

He heard a horrible, hacking cough and realized it came from Chris. Red tinted the edges of Zach's vision once again.  He was not sure what exact expression was on his face, but the doctor began gathering his implements rather quickly. The fussy little man turned once, and said almost joyously, “Do not expect to call on me when the poison in the young master’s lungs drags him to his death. Bleeding him was the only medically sound way to rid him of the imperfections!”

Zach took one step forward, and the doctor wiped his nose defiantly, then turned on his heel and left rather briskly down the stairs.  Zach took a step towards the bed, feeling ill once he was able to actually see detail. Chris, who had already lost a lot of blood from his head wound, had a rather horrifyingly grayish cast to his skin. There was a belt wrapped around Chris's arm, and Zach took it off of him, noticing idly that his fingers were shaking as he did so. He pressed his hand against the wound in Chris's arm, feeling the warm spill of blood against his fingers.

He turned to look helplessly at Lisbet whose lips formed a straight, unsmiling line as she looked down at the man on the bed. She looked over at Zach. He was mildly surprised when the servant embraced him in a quick, hard hug.  “He is desperately ill, my lord.  Not the head wound as we feared, but the cough. A fever.  The doctor insisted on the bloodletting.”

Karl muttered something under his breath about ‘idiot yank quacks’ and stomped off.  Zach sat down on the corner of the bed. Chris was still shivering, although his hairline was almost freakishly dry. And hot. So very hot.  The doctor had moved the duvet, so that Chris's chest was exposed. He had placed one of the cups upside down on his body, the blood trickling into a bowl on the bed next to him, and it sickened Zach to see how it had already filled with the red liquid, spilling into the large basin that it sat in.  There was another set up on the large vein in his arm.  The doctor had taken his medical instruments, but had left the blood and the basins.   

He and Lisbet worked in tandem, bandaging the two wounds. Zach’s work was clumsy, but he insisted on doing it.  He took the basins to the bathing chamber and poured the contents in the porcelain toilet, feeling his guts protest at seeing that much blood.  He washed the basin thoroughly, unable to bear touching any of the blood.  He used soap and refilled it with hot water. 

When Zach took the water to the bedside, he noticed that Lisbet and Zoe were both gone, and that the pitifully bandaged arm had been expertly redone.  Zach set down the basin on the table and began to wash the sweat from Chris's body, unknowing what else he could do.  Chris had asked that he not be here when he woke up, but… he could not leave. Not now. If he had not had something so vitally important to do, then he never would have left in the first place. 

A small, not very kind part of him wanted to blame the other three for allowing the “doctor” (and Zach still growled a little under his breath at the memory of the ghoulish man leaning over  _ his  _ Christopher) free rein.  But no. The doctor would not have listened to any of them, especially with Chris being such an important figure in their society.  Zach should have been here. Zach sighed and wrung out the cloth, only to start again. Chris once again coughed- a deep, hacking sound. Zach paused, jarred out of his thoughts.   A servant knocked softly on the door, Anton behind her. The young man’s arms were full of wood.  Zach nodded absently at them, and then looked back to Chris, moving the basin and going to fetch a few extra pillows from the armoire.  It seemed to him that lying flat with a cough that deep was not a good idea. Oh well, if he was wrong, no doubt Lisbet would set him right.  Zach arranged the pillows, gently propping Chris up on them so that he was comfortably upright.  It did seem to help the wet, wheezing sound of his breathing, but perhaps that was only his imagination. The fire was beginning to crackle as it burned.  Zach blinked, surprised. He had not even noticed them leaving.  He stopped for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, swaying a little on his feet.

“Ah, well you should go to bed, sir.” Lisbet appeared as though by magic. “Excellent idea with the pillows. That should help him quite a lot.  She held a small jar of something in her hands.

“Zoe?”

“Exhausted. Sick with worry. I put her to bed, which if you don’t mind m’sayin so, is where you should be.  Things will sort themselves out.”

“No.”

The corners of Lisbet’s mouth turned down for a moment.  “You surely are a stubborn one, aren’t you? I can see why Chris likes you.”  Her words actually hurt him.  Zach flinched. He knew that whatever affection Chris had once held-  _I love you Zach oh I love you I do I love you so much…!_  was no longer anything. “Ah, now none of that. Well, if you’re going to be about then you should make yourself useful.” She set the jar on the bed and pulled a straight-backed, rather uncomfortable looking chair over to the bedside. She pointed. “Sit.”

Zach sat. He barely managed to keep the ‘Yes, ma’am’ behind his teeth. 

“This is a mix I used to use for my Gran.” She reached over Chris's forehead and felt it with the back of her hand. “I don’t like how quickly his fever has sprung up. We need the fever to break, so keep him warm.  This you should spread on his chest.” She looked at Chris, shivering, still asleep.  Or unconscious. Zach wasn’t really sure. “You know, and you’ll be forgiving my impertinence, sir, but it would do you both good if you slept in the bed beside of him.”

“No. He… I...” Zach cleared his throat; feeling shamed by how much he wanted that small comfort. “No, Lisbet. Chris was very clear before I left.  I will be fine in the chair.” 

Her eyes narrowed again as her thoughts went through her head. She opened her mouth to speak but yawned, jaw-poppingly loudly.  Lisbet turned a bright red and covered her mouth.

Zach just smiled tiredly, realizing that she had to be dead on her feet. Her day started around three in the morning, and it was close to that now.  “I shall be fine.  I will get you if anything changes, Lisbet. Please go rest. We will need you tomorrow.”

Lisbet looked at Chris, then at Zach, and seemed to understand that he needed something with which to occupy himself.  He winced at seeing the kindness on her face, knowing that he no longer deserved it. If he ever did.  She turned to go. 

“Lisbet?”

She turned at the door, brow raised in inquiry.

“Thank you. He would have…” Zach trailed off, the absolute realization of truth shocking him into silence.  “He would have died if not for you. I cannot thank you enough.” He sat in the chair, pulling his boots of his feet.  Zach watched out of the corner of his eye as Lisbet flushed, pleased at his compliment.

“Mr. Quinto--.”

“Zach.”

She was quiet for a moment.  Zach heard the close rustle of her skirts and looked up from his contemplation of Chris, startled.  Her rough, calloused hand rested on his shoulder and for a moment, Zach was reminded of his mother so strongly that his throat closed with emotion and he struggled not to weep. 

He watched as she moved to the bureau, rustling in one of the boxes on the top of the surface, opening a wooden little box and taking something out.  “Zach, then if that is what you prefer.  I can tell you are upset. As well you should be, since that young’un is not yet out of the woods.”  She walked slowly towards Zach and leaned forward, slipping something into the front pocket on his shirt.   “That fever could blow itself out, or … well, my sister died of pneumonia a few years back. He has a lot of the same signs.” Zach nodded, numb.  “But I think, with someone such as yourself looking over him, he will be right as rain and raiding my sweetcake stores again in no time. “ She squeezed his shoulder.  “Call me if you need me, sir.”

Zach felt a hot tear on his cheek and nodded. Lisbet moved away, her hand brushing slightly over his hair as he’d seen her do countless times with Chris.  Perhaps she did not understand the enormity of what he had done; the unforgivable way he had betrayed Chris's trust in him.  Her kindness made no sense otherwise.

Zach let out a long, slow breath as he looked down at Chris.  He bent and reached for the small jar of salve, spreading it over Chris's chest and throat as Lisbet had instructed. The strong scent of eucalyptus and some other herb that Zach could not identify filled the room.  He wiped his hand on the towel and then dipped the wet flannel back into the water, wiping the sweat from Chris's body.

It was quite awhile before Zach thought to look at the thing that Lisbet had slipped into his pocket.  It was a photograph. He could tell from the back, from the feel of the paper.  Zach unfolded it with shaking fingers.  All of the air in his lungs left him in a long, drawn-out breath.   He had to shut his eyes, partially because they were burning, and partially to try to block out the visual of the small picture, yellowed from age and creased from being held, folded, and kept safe for so many years.

It was the two of them.

Zach, skinny- all angles and long lines. Chris looking absolutely terrified but determined. In the picture, Chris  had cupped Zach’s cheek with one overly large hand. Zach, who had been slightly shorter than Chris when he was sixteen, stood up slightly on tiptoe, his hand resting on Chris's shoulder. Their lips were caught forever almost touching, a bright burst of moonlight backlit behind them. With shaking fingers, Zach put it back in Chris's drawer. 

Zach could not have said how long he sat there in the bedroom.  The room was quiet, punctuated only by the coughs as Chris struggled for breath in his sleep.  Occasionally he would bring up fluid and mucus, and Zach would carefully wipe it away. Zach got up occasionally, eyes blurry from his desperate need for sleep to dump out the water after wiping the salve off of Chris once it seemed to have lost its pungent sharpness.  He would stagger back to Chris's bedside, then start the whole process over again.  And again.  And Again. Again. Again.

Then again.


	8. Chapter 8

Chris woke up sweaty. He felt drenched with liquid, sticky, hot and exhausted. His throat was sore, his head throbbed so hard that he could feel it in his teeth, and his mouth tasted…well. Not pleasant. Slowly, his surroundings intruded. He heard bustling around him, voices lowered in solicitous whispers. 

“I do not even begin to comprehend how he managed it.”

“Listen here, sir. You both will lower your voices. If your magpie chatter wakes either of them up, you will have me to answer to.”

Chris's mouth would have twitched in a smile if he hadn’t been so shocked and exhausted. Hearing Lisbet lay into Karl was … quite simply… hysterical. Karl was absolutely terrified of the woman, and had always tiptoed around her as though she were some harridan, ready to strike him down if he did anything untoward.

“I told you. If anyone could have done such a thing, it would have been Zach.”

Chris managed not to stiffen in disgust at the name. Memories came flooding back and he sincerely hoped that no one was looking at him directly, doubting that his reaction was at all hidden.  He could feel his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and pale with astonishment.  Silently he urged them to get to their damn point. He needed to use the facilities.  Chris was starting to become aware of several other things as he lay there with his body aching and his bladder uncomfortably full. There was a solid weight by his hip; pulling the bedclothes just enough that Chris could tell that it was a person that shared his space. Perhaps someone was sitting next to him on the ridiculously comfortable bed.  A comfortable weight stretched over his thighs, reminding him of a dog he and Zoe had once had until his father had had the poor creature removed. 

“How is it that one man has that much influence?” Karl’s whisper was amazed. “He must have paid some of those greedy bastards off.”

“Or blackmail,” Zoe chirped up.  She sounded positively gleeful.  Way too damn gleeful for this early in the morning, in Chris's private opinion.  “I am amazed that he accomplished it, to be honest. He is very clever. I never would have thought to…”

“Okay, I think that’s enough. You two go find something to do. I’ll see to the boys.” Lisbet’s voice was amused, but brooked no argument.  There was some shuffling and footsteps and Chris could have applauded, had he the energy.

“Alright, Christopher. You should know better than to try to play possum with your Lisbet. You might as well open your eyes, lad.”  Her voice was the amused whisper of his youth when he had tried to play sick.

Chris did so to see his old nurse standing with her hands on her hips.  He was propped in such a position that he could see the entirety of the bed without having to move.  The room reeked of eucalyptus and the much less pleasant stench of an unwashed body.  Chris realized with a wrinkled nose that the stench was emanating from him.   _ God _ . He smelled as though he had sweat his way through three days of field labor. 

Zach was next to him, his mouth slack with sleep.  There was a clearly discernible bit of drool on his bottom lip, stretching onto the sheet.  His eyelashes looked like tiny moons on his pale face.  Zach’s eyes twitched under his eyelids. His arm tightened slightly on Chris's thighs.  A soft snore floated in the room.

“He stayed up for hours caring for you. Long enough for me to sleep, get breakfast, and see to my regular duties.  It’s now late afternoon.”

Chris didn’t much care.  As far as he was concerned, the treacherous bastard could spend the rest of his natural life caring for him, and it wouldn’t be enough. Still, he moved gingerly, not wanting to wake him up as Chris slid out from under the covers. 

“I’ll help you. Just slow down a minute. You gave us all quite a scare.” 

Chris coughed, hard, bending over and hacking into his closed fist.  Pain flared all over his body. His chest felt tight. His ribs felt like he had been shot, and his coughing sent bright bursts of colorful pain ricocheting around his head.

At the sound,Zach popped up like a disheveled Jack-in-the-box from his exhausted sprawl, startled so much from his sleep that he chair he’d been sitting in scraped loudly against the wood floor. 

Chris got control of his coughing, holding his head.  He refused to look over at Zach. He was disgusted at himself at how much he wanted to do so, so perversely, he refused to do it. It took him a few tries, but he managed to stand up, hanging onto one of the bed’s posters for balance.  He made his slow, careful way into the bathing chamber, hitching up the silken pajamas that dipped a little on his hips.   He pissed for what felt like an age, then washed his hands and his teeth.  

He made the bathwater as hot as he could stand it, slumping exhaustedly against the marble as the huge tub filled. Chris was quite careful as he slid into the water, hissing out a breath at the heat against his skin. 

Lisbet, who frequently seemed to have no conception of personal space, barged into the room to check that he had not passed out, but since she brought him coffee, Chris decided magnanimously to forgive her.  

“He’s gone you know. You can quit hiding.”

Chris choked on his coffee and looked at her. She stood there calmly, running her eyes over the parts of his body that were visible in the bath.  Chris stifled the urge to dive under the bubbles.

“I am not … hiding. I am bathing.”

She raised an eyebrow. Chris decided that magnanimity didn’t cover nosy, bossy servants and shooed her out of the bathroom.  She rolled her eyes, but left him to his coffee and bubbles. The heat from the beverage soothed his throat, and he was able to better think.

He’d overheard them talking of something.  Zach, obviously.  He’d done something.  What? Did Chris really care?  Did it really  _ matter _ what he’d done?  Clearly, he’d only bothered with helping to nurse Chris back to health because he felt guilty. 

As he should do, the bastard.

Chris winced, hearing the laughter from that night echo in his head.  It was easy to block the look on Zach’s face, the way his eyes had widened in shock, then widened further in horror as he heard the laughing patrons at the musicale.  Chris recognized what Zach had done in a second. 

He quite believed that he would never forget how Zach had reacted so long ago, disappearing and running away before Chris had ever had a chance to see him. Even the beating he’d received, the names he’d been called had paled in comparison to the devastation on Zach’s face, so long ago. 

But last night… the night before… whenever it was. He’d seen such  _ guilt _ in Zach’s face.  If only he had not been so stupid! Telling him he loved him like that. And Zach had… he had…  _ bet _ on him? 

Chris sucked down the rest of his coffee and stood, slowly riding out the small dizzy spell.  He coughed again, and then sneezed.

Excellent. He  _ loathed _ being sick.  Chris wrapped a towel around himself and walked out of the bathing chamber.  He was still exhausted.  He opened the door cautiously, pleased when he saw that Zach was nowhere to be found.  He made his way to the bed and fell back into it, naked.  The sheets smelled divinely clean, and he was very grateful for Lisbet’s quick work at remaking the bed.

He saw that Lisbet had left some crackers and a small chocolate cake near the bed table. There was what appeared to be a letter on the tray.  The chair that Zach had sat at had been pushed to its rightful place near the armoire.  His bedroom… well, _Zach’s_ bedroom… looked just about as normal as it always did.  There was a cup of something by the cake and Chris drank it gratefully, ignoring the letter for now. He made a face.  He recognized the taste of laudanum and knew she wouldn’t give him enough to harm him. Likely she’d dosed just enough for him to rest, enough so that his infernal head would cease pounding.  He drank it and ignored the crackers, and began eating the cake with a little gurgle of happiness.  When he was done, he picked up the letter. It was written on fine paper, with a thick **Z** on the back. Chris’s throat tightened, and he put the letter aside once more. 

“Later,” he whispered to himself. “I’ll read it later.”  Chris coughed again, and put aside the cake, staring up at the ceiling. 

He managed this for several minutes, before making a disgusted sound and tearing open Zach’s letter. 

 

Christopher,

I wanted you to know that I have filed my intentions in the form of a copy of this letter with both your solicitor, Mr. Greenwood, and the good Mr. Urban to ensure that my wishes are met. 

Your ancestral home has been written into your name, and your name only. I considered putting it in Zoe’s name as well, but Mr. Greenwood assured me that this would cause her less grief once she marries. 

Many of your mother’s things are being stored in one of my warehouses. The address is enclosed. 

I have provided Zoe with a substantial dowry, should she decide to get married. If that is not her wish, then the money remains hers. Additionally, I have ensured an introduction with the Headmistress of a school in the City known for its focus on the sciences.  Her school fees will be paid in full. If she does not wish to attend this school, they can be transferred to wherever she wishes. 

You are co-beneficiary of my fortune. You will want for nothing, financially. 

Mr. Greenwood is also drawing up annulment papers. I did not wish to further impune your name by putting you through a divorce. It will be uncontested, and... while I know that what I have done can never be forgiven, hope that you will consider this an apology. 

 

Zach

“I do not want  _ SOUP _ !”

“Quit being such a baby. You’re quite an embarrassment. Think of all the other Viscounts that have shared your name. They’re likely making the sign of the cross and shaking their fists with fury at how pathetic you actually are.”

“I hate you.”

“Shut up and eat your soup.” Zoe tapped her finger against her lips. She smiled, sickly sweet. “Or I shall tell Lisbet,” she sing-songed. 

Chris glared at his sister, wondering where the little brat learned such impertinence. If that’s what they were teaching in those fancy schools these days, then the little darling could damn well stay home.  Mulishly, he ate the soup, manfully ignoring the smirk she shot him as she flipped through the newspaper. 

Little brat.

It had been four days since That Night.  Only… That Night seemed to have never happened.  There was no mention of it in the newspaper.  A gossip columnist had asked the famous singer, Katherine Deuartes, whether or not her party had a little more excitement than she had anticipated.  She had responded that she felt lucky enough that her guests had enjoyed her small show, and ‘those that had enjoyed the soiree after did so with the express knowledge of what love must truly be like.”  Karl reported that not one person seemed to publically laugh about the humiliating experience. The gossips of the elite would not have hesitated at sparing Karl’s feelings with such a juicy tale to tell had there been anything to say.   It was as though the events of the night had not happened.  Zoe had bashfully responded that it had been so dark in the room that while the onlookers could guess at what happened, none of them had gotten an eyeful until the two of them had come running out, completely dishevelled. Karl had  _ further  _ reported that whatever Zach had spent to make this miracle happen should have come out in blood instead of mere dollars and cents, but still a small part of Chris was grateful that his stupidity had not been shouted from the rooftops by the idiots he’d used to see around town.

Oh, and how he hated knowing that he owed Zach anything. He had given that man everything. Every. Single. Thing. And had had it thrown cruelly back at him. Even the letter- that wasn’t an actual apology. Zach had learned that Chris could be bought.  This was no more than paying him off, and every time he thought about it, Chris got more and more furious at Zach’s temerity. 

Chris sulkily finished his soup and put the bowl back onto the tray. Zoe shifted on his bed, rolling over onto her stomach. “Do you ever think you will forgive him?”

Chris ignored her, yawning pointedly. He was damn bored. He hated being bored. Lisbet would not even allow him to read, lest his eyes get tired. He wasn’t some bloody princess for Christ’s sake.

Dratted girl did not get the hint.  Chris frowned, glaring at her again.

She was looking through a small sheaf of papers, tied with a faded pink ribbon.  She ignored him, intent on her search. He watched as she made a small sound of triumph and picked through until she found what she had been looking for.

“Chris… did you know that mother kept all of her letters?”

Chris frowned at the non-sequitur. Zoe didn’t often mention their mother. When she had died it had hit the young girl quite hard. It had taken her at least four months after their period of mourning before she’d been able to speak of their mother without tearing up.

“No. Well, rather I know she kept several of the important ones, but I had not realized that you had them.”

“Hmm. I did. I wanted to keep them, and Lisbet was kind enough to save them for me.” She pulled one out of the stack. It looked much different than the others, as though it had been held more. The white envelope was dirty, streaked with what looked like soot or dirt.  “I think that you should read this one, Chris.”

“I really don’t feel like it, Zoe. I am rather tired.”

“Stuff and nonsense! You just ate Lisbet’s wonderfully nutritious soup. If you’re going to hide up here, and if she has appointed me your caretaker, then you must do as I say.” She held out the letter, delicate brow arched imperiously. Chris, who was beginning to doubt the wisdom of indulging Zoe her every wish and desire, frowned at it. He turned the thick envelope over in his hands, and was shocked to see his name printed clearly on the front, dead center.  The ‘s’ in Chris was smudged, as though it had gotten wet. 

He recognized the handwriting of course. He had read its match mere hours ago. 

In spite of himself, Chris slid the pad of his thumb under the flap of the paper, opening it. He pulled out the small, cheap piece of paper, sitting up in bed, crossing his legs almost without noticing it.  

Why had Zach written to Chris's  _ mother _ ?

He unfolded it, his heart thumping in his chest.

_ Chris, _

_ I’m writing this from a barn. The man that owns it allows me to stay here in exchange for doing odd jobs around his farmstead. The moon is high in the blackness of the sky, and I find myself wondering as I often do, where you are.  Are you thinking of me as I do you?  Do you remember our kiss and cringe with disgust? With passion? _

_ If I had you in front of me right now, I would shake you for your stupidity. I do not comprehend how someone so intelligent could participate in something so … so … cruel. I trusted you. Stupidly, definitely unwisely, but I trusted you so much.  My friend. My only friend. How could you defend me from them one minute and plant your mother’s ring in my bed the next? How could you betray me, be a part of such... such.... I do not have words for what you've done to me. You have stolen my words, Christopher. The headmaster was so disappointed in me. I kept insisting that I was innocent, and each time I spoke, a little of the light dimmed in his eyes.  _

_ You took that away.  _

_ Kissing you was the most beautiful moment in my life.  Realizing that you had only kissed me for sport  _ hurt _ , _ _ Chris. I cannot lie. I’ve never lied to you and whether you want to hear it or not, I feel better for saying it. I only wish that I had the courage to do so after it happened. _

_ If your aim was humiliation, you met your mark. If your aim was for me to hate you, you missed.  Even knowing how cruel you are, and how little my friendship meant to you, I cannot …. I cannot hate you, Chris.  Not since that first moment I saw you tip over that inkwell. You were so beautiful then. I think that was the first moment that I began to realize that I love you. _

_ It occurs to me that a man of your means would have the capital to find me should you wish.  I would like you to explain. I find that going over why you would do such a thing keeps me up at night, and it would be lovely to have a good night’s sleep without the assistance of this cheap rotgut. You know better than anyone that I could never hold my liquor. _

_ Awaiting yr. reply,  _

_ Zach _

Chris ran his fingers ran over the small address after Zach’s rather tilted signature.  Something about the address pulled at him, but he couldn’t place it. He could not stop staring at _ I think that was the first moment that I began to realize that I love you.  _  He ran his fingers over the small circles that dotted the page, realizing that his own eyes were leaking tears.  How ironic that both of them should cry over this page.  Chris took a deep breath and read the letter again. 

How could Zach think…? No. No, of course. Back then Zach had been very shy. His razor-sharp intelligence had kept him apart from the other boys, who had found new ammunition against him. They did not understand how someone so much poorer than them could run circles around them in their studies, especially since most of them had had private tutors almost from the time they were allowed out of the nursery. Zach had no self-confidence.  There was no  _ reason _ for him to trust Chris, especially after hearing those boys laughing at him.  Chris dropped the letter and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

So stupid.

They were both so very stupid.

“You should have seen his face when I told him how you had fought to rebuild those firetraps, Chris. I’ve never seen someone age so quickly in such a small amount of time.”

“Why…  _ why _ …” He coughed, sniffed and wiped his nose on the edge of the sheet. “Why would you not show me this letter immediately?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why should I have done?”  You two presented such a beautiful couple.  You  _ lied _ to me, Chris. You both did. I had no idea that there was anything cold between you. Mr. Urban filled me in, you know.  _ Mr. Urban. _ Not you. And not Zach.”

Chris gulped again, reading over the letter one more time.  His eyes narrowed on the address, and his whole body seemed to freeze with horror and a sudden sharp, sick understanding as several things began to slot into place. He knew that he would  _ never _ be able to forget that address; the dilapidated ruins of where his father’s greed had resulted in the deaths of so many people.  He looked up to meet Zoe’s wet eyes, feeling as though he had been punched in his newly-healed ribs. 

His sister was rather scarily perceptive. She nodded, tears spilling from her own eyes.  “Yes. Mr. Urban made some inquires, Chris. Zach’s whole family. His brother, and … his  _ mother _ .”

Chris shut his eyes, agony squeezing his heart.

“You mustn’t blame mother for not telling you, Chris. I think she knew that Father would… that he…”

Chris nodded, his throat working madly as he tried not to absolutely dissolve into tears.  Other things were coming back to him now.  Why Zach had seemed so affectionate one minute and disgusted at his actions the next. He hadn’t been disgusted with Chris, but for the guilt he must have felt at wanting the man whose family had been responsible for... 

Chris, coward that he was, could not even say it to himself. 

How Zach had jumped so guiltily when Chris had come up behind him at the soiree, quickly masking his frustration at the interruption. Chris had stupidly thought that he perhaps was planning on some sort of assignation with the singer and had jealously intruded on their conversation.  Chris had not thought much about the reason for them conversing in the first place.  And later, it had been  _ Chris  _ who had done the seducing.  _ Chris  _ who had been adamant, doing everything he could do to keep Zach’s attention.

Oh, God. Zach had tried to stop Chris in the hallway, but he had been so greedy for Zach’s touch that he could not stop.

And now, the look on his face, the way he had chased after him, the way he had saved him from drowning in the pond…

The way he had nursed him until he fell into an exhausted sleep…

It all made sense.

“Oh,  _ God.” _

Chris lay in the bed. The lights were dimmed so that his actual features were not discernible.  He lay still under the blankets, sweating lightly from nerves.  The windows were open to the cool night breeze, and the white curtains billowed as cool air circulated.  The bedclothes were clean, and Chris had lit two candles near the bureau. One burned with the light scent of sandalwood. Chris knew that it was a scent that Zach himself enjoyed.  

Chris bit his lip. Zoe had reported that after Chris’s directive, Zach did not spend much time at the house. He had been staying at his club, clearly trying his best to give Chris the space he requested. Chris felt a bright spark of guilt at his last words to Zach and shoved it back down.  It had been almost a fortnight since Chris had seen his husband. Zach had even ignored the two letters he’d pressed a disgruntled Karl into delivering. Karl had reported that an impassive Zach had received them, but as they were not members of the same club he could not wait around to ensure Zach read them. 

Zoe, the clever little wench, had come up with this plan to get Zach here by telling him that Chris had taken a turn for the worse.  Quite honestly, Chris was quite a little disturbed at the ease that she manipulated the both of them, and resolved to have a stern discussion with her.

Eventually.

Right now he was absolutely petrified that her little plan was not going to work.   After Zach’s letter it is quite possible that he felt he owed nothing to his husband. The thought of their marriage being annulled already made Chris want to weep. He had insisted that Greenwood halt the proceedings, but it was entirely possible that Chris had been too late to stop him. 

Chris heard the thunder of hooves outside the manor’s windows. Chris's heart began to pound as he heard the familiar tread on the stairs.  His bedroom door opened with a crash.

“Chris?” the whisper sounded tight with tension. The footsteps rushed to his side.  Chris held himself still, by strength of will. He had to wait for…

There it was. The small  _ click  _ of the door closing; the  _ snick _ of a key being turned in the lock.

“Chris?” Zach’s whisper sounded terrified. 

Chris couldn’t wait anymore.  He moved, pulling Zach to him in the darkness.  Zach froze, trying instinctively to pull back.

“Oh, Zach. I’m so… I’m so very sorry.”

Zach’s body was like a block of marble, frozen with shock.  His hands came up to Chris's death grip around Zach’s shoulders and he pulled, jerking back as though burned.

_ Oh no. Oh  _ no _ , it was not working! _

“You do not know what you are saying. You have no reason to apologize to me, Chris.”

Zach’s voice sounded as though he was moving away from Chris, towards the door. 

“No! Wait!”  Chris was desperate. He’d never in his life wished he had the words to convey the emotions he was feeling at this moment.  He heard Zach turn the doorknob turn, and cringed.  The doorknob turned the other way, and Zoe’s voice could be heard faintly through the door.

“That key is staying in that lock. The servants have the weekend off. I’ll be back on Monday to let you gentlemen out of this room.  Don't worry, there are several things for you to eat should you er... work up an appetite." There was a moment where Chris could actually  _ hear _ his sister making a face. "Let me be clear, here. You are both stupid, moronic fools.  You have caused my heart to fairly break into pieces, and I shall not allow it to go on any longer.  You must, you  _ must _ talk to each other.”  Zoe coughed. “Or, you know. Whatever it is that married people do to fix disagreements.”

Chris jumped out of bed in the darkness and lit a lamp, the light flaring briefly, causing both of them to flinch away. The small candle was not enough illumination. Chris wished to see Zach’s face, so he could judge for himself the strength of his words and understanding. 

Zach turned, staring at Chris with such a look of longing on his face that Chris could not move for the briefest of moments.  Chris knew his body was completely revealed in the small bit of light, and he took a small step forward.

“I read your letters,” Chris blurted.

Zach’s eyes widened and he rocked back as though Chris had struck him. “Was it not satisfactory? I can adjust anything. I do plan on selling the extra homes and estates, and setting that money into a trust--”

Chris held up one hand, and Zach stopped speaking as though his tongue had been removed. 

“You are an idiot.” 

Zach’s face fell, and Chris rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. “Stop.” Chris took a breath, forcing himself to collect his thoughts. “Some of the monetary repercussions were quite thoughtful. I have no interest in my ancestral home how--”

“Oh. Of course you wouldn’t.” Zach swallowed so hard that it was clearly audible. “I can ask your Mr. Greenwood to sell it, or donate it, whichever--”

“Zach. Please stop. Let me finish.” 

Zach did stop, unconsciously drawing himself up and bracing- as one did when expecting horrible news. 

“Do you wish for the annulment?” 

Zach opened his mouth, but Chris hurried on. “Do you wish for it truly. You, Zach. Not what you beleive me to want.”

“No.” The small whisper sounded as though its owner had gargled glass. 

“I do not wish to have our union dissolved, Zach.”

It was Chris’s turn to swallow hard, feeling exceptionally vulnerable at his words. At the potential for rejection in this matter. 

Zach nodded, once, sharply as though their agreement had been reached. He cast his eyes to the open windows, to the candle, and to Chris’s naked body as though fearing repercussions for doing so. All of the sudden, Zach blinked. His brow wrinkled with confusion, and he cocked his head as he stared at Chris. 

“Letters. You said... letters?”

Ah. Given all the misunderstandings the both of them had put forth to this point, Chris wished to make this very clear. “You wrote me. When we were younger. You… you thought that I had betrayed you.  You wrote that despite that, despite the fact you believed that I would do such a thing, that you still loved me.  Zach,” Chris reached out, taking a step forward.  “Zach. I just read it today. My mother never gave it to me. I swear to you, I would have done  _ everything _ to find you. I did try later, but was... unable to do so for a time.” He did not wish to burden Zach with his past. Perhaps some other time. “When I was once again well, the trail had gone quite cold.” 

Chris watched Zach blink rapidly. Chris’s voice dropped, and he leaned slightly closer to his husband, wanting to make certain that Zach understood.

“I had nothing to do with those bastards that hurt you. In fact, I put Angus in the hospital when I realized what they had done. I was so furious.” His voice had dropped down to a whisper.  Chris took another step forward. His body brushed against the fine material of Zach’s breeches. 

Zach was pressed against the door, his eyes riveted on Chris's.

“I swear it, Zach. I never knew.” Chris took the final step forward, brushing his lips softly against Zach’s cheek. He kissed under his eye.  He kissed the tip of Zach’s nose, his jaw, the corner of his mouth.

“Please, stop.” Zach’s whisper sounded tortured.  “You do not understand. You  cannot possibly understand or forgive what I have done!”

“I do. I  _ do _ , Zach.”  The air in the room seemed to be heavy. Chris was finding it difficult to draw breath.  He touched Zach’s chest, placed his hand over his husband’s heart. It was racing so hard that he could feel it under the shirt, waistcoat, and jacket that he wore.  “Everything has been one mistake upon another. From both of us, Zach. I should not have hidden in shame from our kiss when we were children.  I knew that you had to have some sort of ulterior motive to marrying me.  You never needed a… my…  _ our _ title. And of course you weren’t in love with me anymore, so I knew that wasn’t the reason that—“

“But I am.” 

It was Chris's turn to freeze.

“How could I not love you?  You are. You are  _ everything _ .”

Chris felt his face flush, as though his fever were back.  Zach’s hands came out to cup his jaw and Zach pulled their foreheads together. Even with all the acts they had done together, this small instance was shockingly intimate.  “I was so very worried for you. I fear I will never be able to forget seeing you slide into that pond, and know that  _ I  _ was the one that put you there. My stupidity. My arrogance. I love you so much.  I know that I do not deserve this, Chris.  Deserve you. But I shall do everything in my power to endeavor to make this up to you. For. For as long as you’ll have me. In any way that you’ll accept me.”

They both moved at the same time, lips meeting with gentleness at first, gentleness that quickly turned to passion as they tasted each other, each starved for the other.  Chris felt on the knife’s edge between laughing and crying and could not decide from moment to moment which he was more likely to come to.  Chris felt his cock harden and he was shameless, rutting against Zach’s hip. Zach’s hands closed around his naked buttocks and he pulled Chris closer, rotating his hands so that he could clench the taut flesh. Chris blushed, knowing his husband found that area exceptionally pleasing.  One long finger slid against Chris's entrance and both men groaned amidst their kiss, remembering what it had felt like the last time.

“You did not prepare yourself for this?” Zach sounded faintly chiding. Chris shivered as Zach pressed the rough part of his finger against him, rubbing in a small circle.

“N-no. I.. ah. I was not as confident of the outcome. Talking is not always my forte.”  

He felt Zach smile against his neck.  “As listening is not mine.” Zach kissed the column of Chris’s neck, and Chris attempted to ignore the sensation of Zach’s soft lips almost hidden by the roughness of the stubble from his unshaven cheeks as they brushed against his throat. 

“You are perfect,” Zach repeated, sounding awed. His finger pressed against Chris’s opening, then slid down a little further, touching the sensitive skin underneath. Chris moaned, spreading his legs and arching against Zach, desperate for his touch, especially after so long.  Things seemed to be happening too quickly, yet they were moving so slowly that Chris was desperate to have Zach inside of him, lest he change his mind.  

“Get onto the bed. I have something else to teach you.”

Chris shivered, licking his lips. Zach caught his tongue and sucked at it, sending Chris moaning against him again.  His hand pressed against Zach’s cock and Zach pulled away with a sharp sigh.  Zach tore at his clothes, jerking his head towards the bed.  Chris bit his lip and turned, hopping up onto the mattress, laughing as Zach jumped up behind him.  That caused Zach to chuckle, and they both stopped moving for a moment, aware of each other on such a different level that Chris had to blink rapidly before he ruined it.

Zach bent over him, kissing slowly down his husband’s body. Chris forgot how to use his lungs, panting and demanding as Zach licked at his nipples, bit at his navel, scraped the stubble of his beard against Chris's hip. 

“Suck me, Zach.”  Chris blushed at his boldness, but Zach moaned, his mouth flashing in a quick grin. 

“You are such a spoiled little brat.” His breath ghosted over the head of Chris's cock.  “I think I created a monster.”

Chris tugged at Zach’s hair. Really, Zach’s  propensity for excessive discourse during these moments was downright ridiculous.  Zach’s chuckle caused Chris's flesh to break out in small shivers and without much further encouragement, Zach engulfed Chris's cock in his hot mouth.

Chris thought he would arch up off the bed. It was indescribable, the heat and suction working to make him lose what little bit of brainpower he had left.  Zach tasted him, teased him, drawing off and licking, then sucking and blowing on the wetness he created, until Chris could not stop moaning underneath him.   When he urged Chris to turn over, Chris was momentarily disappointed. He’d loved being able to look into Zach’s face while he slipped inside of him, and wanted to feel it again. 

When he felt Zach’s breath over his ass, Chris froze in utter and complete shock. Surely.  _ Surely _ he could not want to…

Zach gently parted him and Chris fell forward onto the mattress, his face almost smothered in the pillows.  He could feel Zach’s breath against him and Chris was glad that his shout of shock was muffled in the bedclothes, for he could not even  _ begin _ to imagine what it was that he shouted. It certainly wasn’t  _ stop _ . More, maybe. The names of the Saints, perhaps.  All Chris knew was Zach’s lips, his breath and the scrape of his stubbled chin against his incredibly sensitive skin as he teased Chris, swirling his tongue around the little pucker of flesh, lapping at him, licking just enough that only the tiniest bit of his tongue actually penetrated him.

Well, let it never be said that Chris was not a fast learner.

He pushed back, and was rewarded with Zach’s tongue, spearing him open. He cried out against the pillows, raising his head and pushing back again, gasping air into parched lungs.  He felt his head throb in protest, the pain sharp against all the pleasure Chris was feeling and he froze. Zach, who had been working in two fingers with his tongue, also paused, withdrawing from him slowly, as though he couldn’t bear to do so.

“I.. I just…” Zach whispered against his thigh, his words dying out as Chris moved as quickly as he could, pushing Zach over so that the other man fell onto his back. 

“One of these days, I shall succeed in shocking you.”

“I have no doubt, love.”

Chris bit his lip at the pet name and looked down Zach’s body.  Zach just stared up at him, a small smile playing on his lips. He looked so much like the young man Chris remembered in that moment that Chris felt his heart flip over in his chest.  Chris could not keep his hands still, touching and stroking, tasting and nibbling his fill on the lean body stretched before him.   An idea struck him; Chris looked over at the bedside table and back down to Zach’s eyes, knowing that his own gaze had changed, darkened. 

“Hmm. I believe I’m about to be shocked.”

“Perhaps.” Chris leaned forward, picking up the small vial he had used before. It was almost empty, and Chris shook it, letting the slippery liquid fall onto his fingers. Some of it dribbled onto Zach’s stomach, and Chris watched as Zach’s stomach muscles fluttered.  “That night. Did you wish you could have… seen me?”

Zach’s eyes widened and he reached his neck up, pulling Chris down to him for another kiss, feeding at his mouth as though starving.  Chris gently disengaged, and stroked his fingers over Zach’s cock as it lay against his stomach, curving slightly to the left.  There was so much that Chris wanted to do, he almost could not decide what to try first.

“There is no rush, Chris. We have … quite…  _ ahhhh _ !” Chris tightened his grip, rising up on his knees to slide his fingers inside of himself. He was mildly surprised to find that there was not much need for stretching this time. Instead, he spread the oil liberally at his entrance, sliding the rest over Zach’s cock, pulling it gently so it continued to harden, rising fully from his body.

Chris paused, shifting uncertainly, meeting Zach’s gaze somewhat nervously.  Without words, Zach helped slide Chris into position over his body, and Chris felt the heat of Zach’s cock nudging against him, sliding just slightly inside.  Zach’s hand moved onto Chris's cock, and he was so close to his completion that he moved without thinking, sliding more fully down onto Zach.

He was so  _ full _ . The ring of muscle felt like it was trying to clench around the base of Zach’s cock, but was prevented from doing so.  Gooseflesh broke out on Chris's body, and he moaned as his nipples tightened, his cock leaking onto Zach’s stomach.

“Please. Oh god,  _ Chris,  _ please you must… I cannot….”  Zach’s voice sounded strangled.

Chris leaned forward slightly on his knees, sliding down with an abrupt movement that sent stars ricocheting off behind his closed eyelids. Zach’s cry sounded desperate, so Chris did it again, more quickly this time, until he was thrusting himself down onto Zach’s cock, almost bouncing in his haste to feel Zach come apart inside of him.

Zach pushed up from his elbows, sliding the hand that had clenched onto Chris's hip up his sweaty back, into his even sweatier hair, pulling his neck back so that he could bite at Chris's throat, his other hand working Chris's cock.

It didn’t take long.

Chris froze, his clenching muscles sending Zach over the edge with him, both of them holding onto each other as though afraid to let go.  Chris's heart was like some trapped thing in his chest, and he collapsed onto Zach with no grace whatsoever, landing with a soft grunt of pain as sweat dripped down over the stitched wound onto his head.

It took him a moment to realize that Zach was laughing underneath him, chuckling and snorting into Chris's chest.  Chris's mortally offended face just seemed to send him off again and Chris flopped off of his husband, his face creased into a frown.

“No! Oh.. oh god.  Do you…?” Zach could not speak yet and clutched Chris to him, sniggering into his collarbone. Chris frowned even harder, supremely unamused.  This was  _ not  _ how he had envisioned this evening ending.

“Do…  Do you realize that we were just locked into our bedroom by your…”

Chris eyes widened slightly.

“By.. by.. your _fourteen_ _year_ _old_ sister who basically told us to….”

Chris's lips twitched of their own accord.

“Tuh-Tuh---told us that she was locking us in here until we…”

“Oh my  _ god _ . I shall never be able to look her in the face again!” Chris's moan set Zach off into an almost screaming fit of hysteria.

Slowly, bit by bit they both managed to stop their supremely unrefined giggles, by the simple matter of Zach curling up onto Chris's chest and refusing to look him in the eyes.

“She was right. She asked me if I loved you, you know. I think she knew before I figured it out. She will be absolute hell on wheels when she is a bit older. I almost feel sorry for your Mr. Urban.”

Chris bit his lip. He did not know what Zach meant. Zoe had no particular interest in Mr. Urban. She was much too young. That was.. Absurd. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, listening to Zach’s heartbeat slow. “Hearing that you love me makes me so very, very happy, Zach.”

“Then I shall have to tell you more often.” He moved, kissing where Chris's heart still beat rather quickly in his chest. “I love you,” Zach whispered, moving up to kiss Chris's shoulder. “I love you,” he said again. He kissed Chris's chin. “I love you.” He moved once again to Chris's lips, and this time the kiss was much longer, much sweeter.  A kiss of promises. 

“I love you too, Zach.”

Perhaps, Chris thought as he drifted off into sleep, it would be better for Zach if he never knew just who had told Chris to seduce him.

He wouldn’t want to shock him  _ too _ much, after all.

That night, when Zoe crept slowly to the bedroom door, holding her hands carefully over her ears lest she hear anything that might cause her to blush, she was very careful to turn the key, unlocking the door without a sound.  She didn’t  _ mean _ to open the door. Honestly.  But when she saw the two of them, the duvet keeping them just barely modest, their exhausted bodies curled together painted in the moonlight, Zoe had to bite her lip.

And smile.

  
  


 

 

THE END.....?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **OMFG THE END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!** * gets fainting couch out of storage and falls over in a droopy, dramatic, fashion.*
> 
>  
> 
> Okay folks. Here comes the embarrassingly mushy a/n that I have been avoiding for most of the fic.  My beta, [**jademac2442**](http://jademac2442.livejournal.com/)  is a truly amazing person. She's part cheerleader, and part slave driver and I adore her for it. I was so happy to see that people enjoyed this fic! I mean it started as a joke... and well I kind of got attached to it, so each and every comment made me grin.
> 
> 2016 Edit-  A long time ago, **jlm121** asked me to do a sequel with Karl and Zoe in this ‘verse, but things happened and blahblah and while she’s used to me not writing things I have sudden, spastic ideas for (Look no one needs the multifandom Amazing Race fic. I understand this. Really, I do. BUT I DREAAAAM.) now that I’ve dusted this back off, I have to ask- would anyone want to read it? 
> 
> If so, please let me know. I mean, there are a few more  _ thousand _ romance stereotypes I can dust off. :D Plus, I think there are a few things that Chris and Zach might need to discover...

**Author's Note:**

> (You can read more of my Trek stuff [ here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/works?fandom_id=601802), my Pinto stuff [ here](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=13057&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&user_id=1lostone) , and follow me on tumblr [ here](http://1lostone.tumblr.com/).


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